SCUTTLING: THE SOCIAL MOSAIC OF URBAN BLACK SOUTH AFRICANS

By

SUSAN MIDDLETON KEIRN

OF A DISSERTATION PRESENTED TO THE GRADUATE COUNCIL THE UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA THE IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA

1 975 Copyright By Susan Middleton Keirn 1975 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Without the patient cooperation, understanding, generosity, and warm hospitality of many people resident in the two research townships, no amount of formal academic training, funding by granting agencies, or permission by government officials would have made the present study possible. Hence it is with the deepest appreciation that

I thank the Black South Africans who allowed me to partici- pate in their daily lives and activities, and who assisted in countless ways to make the field research a stimulating and exciting learning experience. Although they gave so much of themselves in trying to teach me the intricacies and inside view of their lives, they cannot be named here individually because their privacy must be respected, and because to name separate persons and their contributions would require an incredibly voluminous listing. I sincerely trust that each of the people will know that his or her con- tribution was important. I hope that if they read this study, they may find that an outsider has gained and presented some understanding of what life means for urban

Blacks in today. Memories of pleasant times, and also sorrows, shared with friends are still fresh.

Distance has not dimmed, nor will time, some of the attach- ments formed. Circumstance may dictate, as it already has in one case, that I never again see some of these friends.

Some of us may meet again, and perhaps the writing of the

present study is a way of saying that I have not forgotten

them. In it I trust they may find something of value.

My supervisory committee chairman. Dr. Brian M. duToit, has also been my academic advisor since 1968. It was he who re-kindled my early interest in Africa, was instrumental in obtaining funds for my earlier field research in 1969, eased my reentry into the Department of Anthropology in the fall of 1974, and was willing to take time from his especially busy schedule in the spring and summer of 1975 to assist and encourage me in the completion of the dissertation. His guidance and concern during my field research was valuable in many ways. His theoretical and practical emphasis on individuals as the locus of culture has contributed greatly to my research and writing. He has been exciting to work with, and his breadth of knowledge, not only of Africa, but of general Anthropology, which he has shared with me, has inspired me to examine my own work critically and to work more diligently. A meticulous and knowledgeable committee

chairman is an invaluable asset. I would like to express to Dr. duToit my special sincere appreciation.

Dr. Solon T. Kimball has contributed freely of his time, talents, and advice in academic matters, as well as assisting in those special times of crisis that are a part of the passage through any graduate program. His academic emphasis on interaction and events as a reflection of a unit being studied is clearly reflected in my dissertation, and provided an important framework. For all of his guidance

and assistance I am especially grateful.

Another of my committee members. Dr. Joseph S.

Vandiver, gave helpful and succinct comments which were especially welcome. Our conversations aided in focusing on the core issues of this study and were particularly valuable. His long-standing interest in Africa, and his scope and depth of academic knowledge cannot but have added to the present study.

Anyone doing anthropological field research in South

Africa need pay special tribute to Professor Eileen J.

Krige. Her pioneering work and long career of contributions to Social Anthropology alone would justify the previous statement. However, in addition, in my own case, she wel- comed me to South Africa on my arrival, and extended end- lessly thoughtful and generous hospitality, as well as assistance with permits and contacts with a wide network in both White administrative circles and in academic circles, especially in Durban and . When she was at the University of Florida she was a source of encouragement and stimulation. During my stay in South

Africa she advised, queried, commented on, and guided the research within the confines of her own busy schedule.

Since my return to this country, she has continued to assist in every way possible, and my heartfelt gratitude to her

V knows no bounds. During my stay in Durban Mr. Dan Krige willingly gave of his time to keep my car (so necessary in my daily drive to the townships where I could not live) in working order. He was a friend in the truest sense of the word. In several emergency situations I was able to call upon him, and felt free to do so because he was so generous and gracious in the giving of his assistance.

Dr. Maxine L. Margolis, a fri end for some years since her arrival at the University of Florida, kindly consented to be present at the defense, as did Dr. William R, Maples.

Dr. David L. Niddrie of the Department of Geography gave me his usual valuable assistance and advice at a time immediate- ly prior to his departure from this country for the summer.

Dr, Elizabeth Eddy, who has recently served as Graduate

Coordinator in the Department of Anthropology along with her many other duties, was ever helpful, and in a number of cases served as a morale booster, as well as academic advisor. Dr. Hunt Davis, Jr., from whose courses I learned so much about the total context of Africa from a historical perspective, deserves special mention. He was always ready to discuss our common interest in Africa in general, and in

South Africa particularly.

To members of the staff of the Departments of Anthro- pology at both University of Natal, Durban, and the Univer-

sity of the Wi twa ter s ra nd , Johannesburg, for their special assistance in matters too numerous to mention, my special

thanks are due. To mention one would be to mention all. since so many staff members in both universities were especially kind and generous. I only regret that at present my debt to them is not fully repaid.

The research in South Africa was supported by a combi- nation pre-doctoral fellowship and grant (3F01 MH 54601) from the National Institute of Mental Health. This support is gratefully acknowledged. The fellowship and grant covered many of the expenses of conducting urban research in a country with quite a high cost of living. These funds were generously supplemented by my husband, Michael, who also gave unstintingly of his time in the preparation of maps and tables, proofreading, and general organization of the dissertation in its final form. He also shared with, and assisted me wherever possible in some of the Johannes- burg field research. My deepest gratitude to him for all of these, and for his constant consideration and fore- bearance. My parents, Mr. and Mrs. John A. Middleton, assisted me throughout my graduate career in matters both fiscal and logistical. I can never adequately repay to them all that they have sacrificed in my behalf.

My sincere appreciation goes to the South African government for having allowed me to enter that country, and further for having given their permission to carry out re- search in the Black African townships. Various officials contributed statistics and other information, and I would

like to thank them for providing such assistance. I trust that, if they read this study, they will not be disappointed

V ^ 1 .

with the way the information has been used, or with the viewpoint I present, as I found it during the course of nearly daily interaction and investigation in these

towns h i ps

To Ms. Mary Ann Hester, who typed the final copy of the dissertation, under less than ideal conditions with the greatest of patience and good humor, my deep appreciation.

Both of the African research assistants, who are not named here, since at this time I have not secured their permission to do so, worked long and most irregularly scheduled hours with me. I owe them an extremely large debt of gratitude.

V 1 1 1 TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS iii

ABSTRACT xii

CHAPTER

ONE INTRODUCTION 2

TWO GENERAL BACKGROUND 6

Towns and Cities in Africa 6

South Africa's Cities 7

THREE RESEARCH BACKGROUND 20

Assumptions and Rationale 23

Objectives 30

Procedure and Plan of Work 32

Compatibility of Perspective, Problem and Population 34

Fieldwork Problems and Methods... 36

FOUR RESEARCH SETTING 46

South Africa: Land of Contrasts 46

The Black Townships 58

FIVE THE SOCIAL MOSAIC: INTRODUCTION 78

The People 79

Conclusion 108

SIX THE SOCIAL MOSAIC: FRIENDSHIP 110

Friendship and Prestige Ill

Significant Criteria of Evaluation

and I nteract i on 117 CHAPTER Page

Friendship Terminology 149

Friendship and Residence 155

Summary and Concisions 158

SEVEN THE SOCIAL MOSAIC: ETHNICITY 163

Friendship Transaction 164

Marriage Transaction 177

Neighborhood 181

Politics 182

EIGHT THE SOCIAL MOSAIC: EXPERTISE 187

Music 188

Theater 198

Poetry 200

Charity Work 204

Spirit Mediumship 222

NINE THE SOCIAL MOSAIC: EVENTS 243

National Traditional Day 243

Soweto's R64,000 Wedding of the Year 248

TEN THE SOCIAL MOSAIC: SCUTTLING AND "MAKING IT" 273

Housing, Facilities, and Decor 273

Fashion, Food, and Drink 288

Entertainment and Activities 295

ELEVEN DYNAMICS OF SCUTTLING 306

The Model 306

Applicability of the Class System 309

The Elite 312

X CHAPTER Page

ELEVEN Black Consciousness and Scuttling 315

REFERENCES CITED 317 d

Abstract of Dissertation Presented to the Graduate Council of the University of Florida in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy

SCUTTLING: THE SOCIAL MOSAIC OF URBAN BLACK SOUTH AFRICANS

By

Susan Middleton Keirn

August, 1975

Chairman: Brian M. du Toit Major Department: Anthropology

The culture of inequality of aparthei -created urban

Black townships, near two major centers within the Republic of South Africa, is explored and analyzed. Within White- minority ruled South Africa, each of the four legalized and institutionalized color-castes comprises a separate ref- erence group and an autonomous subsystem of statuses. The

Black African subsystem of statuses, the focus of 20 months field research, is based primarily upon achievement criteria rather than on ascription. In the present study, special emphasis is placed on those criteria of social evaluation and interaction recognized and used by residents themselves, instead of those imposed by a researcher. Inequalities consistently recognized, conceptualized, and acted upon by urban Blacks, and their ideas about these inequalities, are

X ^ ^ of paramount importance in this study. These ideas are contained within the township-based culture of inequality.

A dynamic model , grounded in field research data, is presented to comprehend and represent the interplay of objective and subjective criteria as used by township residents in their evaluations and interactions. This model is that of scuttling. Scuttling, as used by this researcher and some township residents, denotes the plans and strate- gies by which social standing can be publicly displayed and expressed, and by which prestige-capital may be accumulated.

Scuttling is a series of acts or attitudes reflective of what people in a particular society think to be significant in differentiating them selves from others in that society.

It also represents what people do in setting themselves apart from others in that society.

The choice of leisure-time associates within the social mosaic of the Black townships is usually based on

i i 1 perceived equality. The et hno soc o 1 og ca 1 y significant criteria used in evaluations and interactions among urban

Black South Africans are presented and discussed. Data presented on personal social networks and marriage patterns among persons regarded by other residents as social elite, suggest that, among this segment, membership in a specific intra-African ethnic group is not as important in social transactions as it has sometimes been portrayed. The life-styles which express and reinforce the social boundaries of the Black social elite are given particular attention and

X i i i description. These persons generally are the pace-setters and arbiters of taste in their own communities. Their importance and influence far outweighs their relatively small numbers. The reciprocities which are an integral part of their life-style serve as a limiting factor to establish and maintain social boundaries.

A number of types of expertise, as well as various specific township events, are portrayed in order to demon- strate that in urban African communities of South Africa there are two juxtaposed themes: one of Black consciousness, solidarity, and pride; the other a materialistic achieve- ment orientation. The intellectual dilemma and the tensions between these two themes are the most outstanding characteristics of the urban Black South African social mosaic today.

X 1 V <*,>! > .

.1

>

.4

PART I

• I CHAPTER ONE

INTRODUCTION

One of the most important features of modern African

society has been the development of various forms of social

stratification; however, as yet, relatively little specific

information is available about the range of these forms,

whether in Africa or in much of the remainder of the non-

Western world. Even less is known about the inequalities

consistently recognized, conceptualized, and acted upon

by members of a given society and their ideas about these

inequalities. These ideas are what has been called the

"culture of inequality" (Fallers 1973:6). The plans by which this culture of inequality is put into action, the

strategies by which it can be manipulated, and the processes whereby the prestige of an individual can be enhanced are referred to in this study as "scuttling." Scuttling, then,

is a series of acts or attitudes that reflect through actions what people in a particular society think to be significant

in differentiating them from others in that society. It also represents what people do to set themselves apart from others in that society.

This study, based on 20 months fieldwork, deals with the culture of inequality as used and manipulated by

2 .

3

residents of a giant heterogeneous African township (the

f i f th-1 argest city in Africa south of the Sahara) and of one

of its homogeneous provincial counterparts. The culture of

inequality presented here often finds expression in leisure-

time pursuits and in "happenings," rather than within the context of the family or other highly visible units such as voluntary associations. Due to this special arena of action and the difficultues of delving into it, as well as to

several unexamined assumptions made by researchers in the past, we know little about this culture of inequality.

Hence, what the reader will be exploring in the bulk of this study are the various aspects of township social life which carry particular importance for the participants.

We will focus on those aspects which count most among resi- dents themselves and which best express their own ideas and ideals. Part I provides a brief general background to urbanization in Africa, and focuses on South Africa, where the research fieldwork described in Chapter Three was carried out. Chapter Four pinpoints and details some impor- tant factors concerning the general research setting and specifically the two urban African townships, where the new inequalities are taking shape--inequal i ties between African and African within the African color-caste and its subsystem of statuses

Part II is a description and an analysis of various important parts of the social mosaic beginning in Chapters

Five and Six with some of the people, their friendships, and 4

leisure-time pursuits. In the following chapter, the new

inequalities are viewed with regard to the importance of

ethnic identification in social interaction; and network

information is presented which lends support to the fact

that residents emphasize achievement rather than ascription

in their evaluations. Such achievements are displayed in

the specific areas of expertise which are the focus of

Chapter Eight. The chapter that follows shows how such

expertise can be used to gain visibility and how it may be

parlayed into prestige-gain. The prominent public display

of a combination of all the aspects discussed in Part II

is at the core of scuttling. However, it is not always

successful. The appropriate situations, events, and

combinations involved are dealt with in Chapter Ten which

details the specific life-style which sets apart the few

from the many. The reciprocities which are an integral

part of this life-style serve as a limiting factor which

establishes and maintains social boundaries. The final chapter summarizes the diverse parts of the social mosaic, and the dynamics of scuttling are set within the culture of inequality of some of these urban dwellers. This chapter points out the juxtaposition of two pri nci pi es--equal i ty as represented by the Black solidarity movement and in- equality represented by the model of scuttling. This final chapter also emphasizes that a "class-system" on the

American prototype is not found in the Black townships, and presents an alternative more representative of the social reality of the townships. CHAPTER TWO

GENERAL BACKGROUND

Towns and Cities in Africa

As is the case, particularly in developing countries, towns and cities in Africa are generally centers of importa- tion and innovation, as well as epicenters of their societies

(Hanna and Hanna 1971:2-4). But more than this, towns are the "centers in which a major restructur i ng of African society as a whole is taking place, a restructuring which is reaching deep into the countryside (Gutkind 1962:185).

This restructuring increasingly involves social differentia- tion and for some Africans new ways of conceputalizing sizeable inequalities.

There were towns in Africa before its colonization, and it is important to bear in mind that, in West Africa especially, the "historical and cultural tradition for urbanization, in at least a limited form, has existed for centuries" (Thomas 1965:25). However, the new post-coloni- zation urban agglomerations are of a different order--their size and their numbers, as well as their functions attest to the difference. Many of the new towns were industrial- mining complexes linked to a European economy, and serving

6 .

7

that economy (not its own hinterland) is what provided for

the emergence and growth of such towns. The growth of

African towns was given tremendous impetus by World War II.

The process of emergence and the influence of external

factors on the growth of mi n i ng - i ndu s tr i a 1 complexes can

be indicated by looking at Johannesburg, South Africa, city

of gold.

South Africa's Cities

The largest city in South Africa today began as a

temporary mining camp. Johannesburg was founded in September,

1866, as a result of the discovery of gold which led to a

large in-migration of Whites. In 1896, the population of

the city of Johannesburg stood at 102,000, about evenly

divided between European and African^ (Lewis 1963:3). But,

by 1899 the same source reports that "111,697 Natives were

. employed on the mines of the Wi twatersrand " Growth of

service industries and mining continued steadily until World

War II when there was large scale industrial development, and as a result the African population increased rapidly.

The five years of the war changed almost every aspect of

African life in Johannesburg. The tremendous growth in

Throughout the present study indigenous Africans are called Africans. However, following current and fairly recent usage by Africans, they will also be referred to as Black South Africans. Although this latter usage can in- clude Coloureds and Asiatics in specific contexts, it will be used here in a more limited sense because the research populations are composed of those officially classified as African 8

the number of factories and industries directly associated with the war effort resulted in an insatiable demand for

African labor. Hence, the African population of

Johannesburg increased by leaps and bounds until in 1946, estimates place it at 395,231 (Lewis 1969:7). So that in

50 years the number of Africans drawn to the city and re- siding there had increased nearly eightfold. This is mushroom growth by anyone's standards.

Today Johannesburg covers some 94 square miles and has a total population of about 1,300,000 persons

(Edelstein 1972:53). Black (African) Johannesburg forms the largest urban African population in the whole of South

Africa. It is more than three times as large as Black

Pretoria's population (which is next largest). White

Johannesburg's urban population is the largest in the whole of South Africa, but is about half that of Black Johannesburg.

The economic, legal, and political aspects of South

Africa will be discussed more fully in the chapter describ- ing the research setting. Hence, for present purposes, this section will be limited to clarifying the overall status system of the total society, and examining how the African status subsystem is related to the structure of this wider society.

In South Africa the major groups of the larger society are clearly delineated into four color-castes (duToit 1966).

The dominant White minority (3.8 million) with its extensive economic and political power, defines and imposes restraints 9

on the other three color-castes. These other color-castes,

as officially defined by the White-controlled government,

are; Coloured (2 million); Asian (600,000); and African

(14.9 million).^ In other words, through the stringent

application of these restraints, a principle of stratum

distinctiveness has been well established and institution-

alized, whereby Africans suffer the harshest restraints

and occupy a post ion of least power and privilege. It is

likely that such a principle of stratum distinctiveness

will create variants and further divisions within the major strata of the society, rather than across color

lines (Tuden and Plotnicov 1970:8; van den Berghe 1970:

362). The present study concerns itself with such further divisions as may exist within the urban African color- caste.

The urban population of South Africa is situated at the large seaports like Durban and Cape Town; and at coastal cities like Port Elizabeth and East London; within the

a Pretor i - Wi i twater srand -Vereen i g ng triangle; at the admin- istrative capitals of Bloemfontein and Pi etermarti zburg ; and at other mining towns of Kimberley and Welkom. And the total urban population has been growing rapidly, particularly during the past two decades. In 1970, 33 percent of all

Africans were living in urban areas, compared with only

^These May 6, 1970, population figures, rounded to the nearest 100,000, are from figures released by the Department of Statistics and quoted in Edelstein 1972:52. 10

10 percent in 1904. In 1970, 85.7 percentof Whites, 86.2 percent of Asians, and 74.3 percent of Coloureds were living

in urban areas.

The explanation for such rapid urbanization is to be found partially in economic development. In keeping with conditions in many parts of the world, the Tomlinson

Commission pointed out that "The rural areas do not offer sufficient opportunities for work or opportunities which are sufficiently remunerative (quoted in Edelstein 1972:

22). This is particularly striking in view of the fact that, of the 13 percent of South Africa's land set aside as

"Homelands" for about 70 percent of its population

(Africans), such land is, with negligible exceptions, in the rural areas. It is not accidental that areas desig- nated "White" constitute 87 percent of the land and nearly all cities and industrial areas.

Due to the pervasive nature of color barriers, each

"race" constitutes both a separate reference group in the status system and an autonomous subsystem of status with its own criteria (van den Berghe 1970:365). In other words, the African "race" constitutes simultaneously a separate reference group within the overall status system of South Africa and an autonomous subsystem of statuses with its own criteria. This subsystem can then be closed for purposes of examination and analysis as is done in the present study. Kuper points out that under the influence of the overall racial stratification, "classes do form, but within each group." However, the general racial stratification affects White and African "class structures"

in different ways. "Among Africans, restricted opportunity enhances the significance of small differences and sharpens the awareness of social class" (Kuper 1965:135). Because of its unique structure. South Africa (in addition to being

intrinsically worthy of scholarly interest) provides an ex- cellent laboratory in which to examine the development and nature of the new inequalities between African and African

in the urban setting.

Africans in Towns and Cities: New Inequality

In colonial Africa the inequalities which first drew attention involved the contrast between the life-ways of the administrators, industrialists, and other non- indigenous peoples with the life-ways of the indigenous migrants to the towns. However, with the approaching era of Independence in many parts of the continent, and with continuing rapid industrialization and urbanization of

South Africa, inequality of a different order became ap- parent. This inequality obtained between African and African and created a considerable amount of confusion on the part of observers, many of whom merely noted its presence.

Different parts of Africa obviously present this inequality in different forms and different intensities.

Very few researchers have set out to examine the nature of social differentiation and social stratification . ,

12

among urban Africans in various parts of the continent.

Schwab did so in Gwelo and he concluded that, even though the system of social stratification in Gwelo "provided a rudimentary set of rules and procedures regulating social relations and there was an awareness of status," it was at that time premature to speak of a full-fledged class system among Africans in what was then Southern Rhodesia (1961:

142-143)

Plotnicov, who has made an analysis of African social stratification in Jos, Nigeria, mentions not only the modern African elite, but also a part of the population

(termed the "incipient middle class") which seeks to iden- tify with and strives to be accepted into the ranks of the modern elite (1970:292). He states, "I hold that Nigeria is moving toward a modern class system."

A few other studies have been limited to an investigation

of what are termed "el i tes "--both traditional and modern

(Goldthorpe 1961; Int. Soc. Sci. Bui. VIII 1956 entire number). Elite has been used by some observers to mean educated elite (LeVine et al . 1967; Oppong 1974) and by other observers to mean political elite (Smythe and

Smythe 1960; Vincent 1971). Still others ( Brandel -Syr i er

1971) use the term in the generalized social sense in which it was defined by Nadel (1956:413-416).

Kuper (1965) explored the emerging category that he termed "bourgeoisie" (by which he meant African profes- sionals, traders, senior government and municipal clerks); :

however, he limited his study exclusively to this narrow segment of occupations. Even so he notes indications of

a trend toward what he calls "class formation" among Africans in Durban, South Africa

There are thus indications of a trend toward class formation, shown in the patterning of characteristics around the objective core of occupation, and in a measure of selective recruitment, over two generations, of nurses, teachers, and university students. But the class structure is far from being clearly delineated, and recruitment is relatively open... High mobility through education... restricts the crystallization of class differences into an hereditary inequality. There is such vitality of movement into fields of greater opportunity, even under apartheid, that this process of upward mobility is likely to continue... (Kuper 1 965:1 04-1 05).

In general, however, the literature dealing with urban Africans contains little about divisions recognized by Africans and based on criteria of achievement rather than ascription. Only a few early authors make mention of "lower- class Africans or point to the existence of an "upper-class" (Sofer and Sofer 1955:39; Southall and Gutkind 1956:19). Many researchers employ, explicitly or implicitly, the main

division between migrant and townsman (Mayer 1961: Plotnicov, 1967; Powdermaker 1962; Sofer and Sofer 1955; Southall and Gutkind 1956; UNESCO 1956; and Wilson and Mafeje 1963).

At most some authors note in passing that "class" is an important factor. For example in a study of Langa in Cape Town, the latter authors note "the emergence of a 14

middl e-cl ass--the 'ooscuse me'"^ (1963:137). While these O authors also mention another group, the "decent people" who

fall slightly below the "ooscuse me," the aim of their re-

search was to classify the "effective social groups" in the

township; hence, they did not examine the dynamics of the

emerging inequalities or the ramifications of the relation-

ships between the categories of persons they delineated.

Pauw, in an investigation of the family among

town-born Xhosa in East London, South Africa, sets apart a

"white collar" type which is on the whole also the "best-

educated and most wealthy section of the community." He

states that what is now the upper "stratum" may still

become differentiated into different "strata" with in-

creasing economic and industrial advancement of urban

Africans; but he stresses that "it cannot be merely assumed

that the future upper and middle classes will be dis-

tinguished along lines like those of Western society" (1963:

179). This is an important point to bear in mind, and one

which will be dealt with more fully in the following chapter.

Hellmann, referring to Soweto near Johannesburg,

states flatly that "classes exist in Soweto" and Mkele

Hhis group termed "middle class" by these authors seems to correspond roughly to what Plotnicov refers to as the "modern elite" and what Kuper calls the "bourgeoisie." ^These people appear to be similar to what Plotnicov termed the "incipient middle class" and what van den Berghe calls the "Lumpenbourgeoisie." (quoted by Hellmann) feels that the "class distinctions that are now part and parcel of the African social system do not depart in a significant fashion from those the Whites know."

However, Hellmann also points out that very little research has been carried out in Soweto, and that consequently she is

"clothing the skeleton of ascertained fact with the flesh of [her] own impressions and deductions" (1967:5).

The unexplored relationship between "tribe" and "class" presents further problems which are apparent in Pons' study of Stanleyville. He employed "the terms 'tribalism' and

'class' to refer to. ..two broad principles of differentiation,

but it will be seen in the course of the study I tend to discard 'class' altogether and in many instances use

'tribalism' only as an indication of a general kind of differentiation" (Pons 1969 :16). A similar perspective was adopted by Fraenkel. Although she uses "class" in the title of her book, at no point does she offer her working defini- tion which might fit the cultural context with which she deals. Instead she simply uses the term as a label to signify distinctions she draws between people. She dis- tinguishes the two social classes in Monrovia as comprising the "civilized" and the "tribal" (1964:196, 201). Then she further, quite arbitrarily, distinguishes an "upper class" and a "middle class, "the latter consisting of "white-collar workers, teachers, nurses, and so on who hold subordinate positions in the government-based hierarchy." "Class" for some observers is determined by "civilizing"

factors, i.e. those which draw Africans nearer to the

supposedly "civilized" European way of life. In other words,

a way of life the African "middle class" in British Central

Africa in the late fifties reportedly used as a standard

or a scale of prestige. Mitchell noted the presence of

three "strata white collar; skilled; and unskilled workers.

But he did not classify them further (1956:222-232).

It is not quite clear what Meillassoux meant by

"class" in his study of the social structure of modern

Bamako. He investigated not only civil servants, but also

the "social and occupational structure of the lower strata,"

concluding that, "it will be clear that it is difficult to

distinguish definite social classes. People still belong

to various social milieux, old and new, which cross-cut each other" (1965:140).

As Epstein (1967:275) has pointed out, there has been

a preoccupation with specific towns. Thi s preoccupati on may

have led to the "tribal" aspects of urban life being given

prominence (Allen 1972 :170). The emphasis on "tribalism" can obscure the real nature of urban phenomena (Keirn 1972;

Kuper 1965:127-128; Mafeje 1971; Manganyi 1973:20-21).

Urban Africans, then, are differentiated into what some observers call "emerging social classes" and also segmented into ethnic groups; but, although the relationship of the two aspects is not completely clear, it has been n

17

suggested that the two divisions are antithetical to each other. "In short, one can say that ethnic affiliation re- cedes in importance as social classes emerge from the process of Western! zation .... For most [African] town dwellers and many rural inhabitants, this ethnic affiliation has become vague^...and has ceased to be an important social reality"

(van den Berghe 1970:362). Hellmann (1967:17) again referring to Soweto where the bulk of the present study was carried out, states that for residents common "tribal"

2 membership seems to be a "category of growing irrelevance."

In light of this information which is suggestive of the importance of "social class" behavior and ideology among different segments of urban African populations, especially in South Africa, it would seem that some reassessment of certain assumptions is in order. It has been contended that domination by Whites stifles or clouds class differentiation within the African community (cf. Plotnicov 1970:19). But this assumption should be examined more carefully, and it would seem p-rudent to give serious attention to another side of the coin. Hence, for purposes of this study, the

^This is in striking contrast to Mitchell's (1962;

1969) data on the importance of ethnicity in i ntra -Af r i ca social relations for Central Africa. 2 Regarding the same African township, a more recent newspaper article tells much the same story by citing the inconveniences and annoyances of Africans who are housed in the township according to their official ethnic grouping rather than by occupational or life-style criteria as many would prefer (Sidzumo, "Star," October 4, 1973). 18

working hypothesis was that "perhaps the rejection by the

dominant group, the strength of pressures toward an equal

subordination, and the limited scope for achievement stimu-

late, under certain conditions, differentiating tendencies

rather than the reverse" (Kuper 1965 :7).

Increasingly, then, the behavior and organization of

urban Africans in South Africa needs to be viewed in terms

of the character and form of developing intra-African in-

equalities based on achievement rather then placing emphasis

exclusively on their membership in a particular ethnic group

(e.g. Zulu, Sotho, etc.). Such an approach may lead to new

ways of viewing the lives of urban Africans who can no

longer meaningfully be subsumed under the older migrant-

townsman dichotomy. In any event, one is forced to conclude

along with van den Berghe (1965:162) that clearly much more

work needs to be done in the field of African social

differentiation and stratification.

At the very minimum it seems that to describe and

analyze the condtions of the emergence of inequalities will

require distinguishing between a "class" and a "class system."

If the process of stratification unfolds over time, "may we not assume ... that it develops part by part, class by class, and does not emerge full-blown" (Plotnicov 1970:299).

Kuper (1965:130) has also suggested that it may be valuable,

in dealing with a society in transition, to conceive of an

interim situation in which a stratum emerges from an un- differentiated urban mass and becomes conscious of itself as a class by the criteria of the dominant society. The conceptual framework used to view social differentiation must be clarified and elaborated.

Hence, the following chapter will suggest that the source of some of the confusion evidenced in the literature lies with the very terms used to comprehend and describe certain phenomena of inequality, and partially stems from a neglect of the cultural context of such inequality. The nature of the assumptions and the nature of the initial operations performed on a social universe have colored and skewed the way in which social scientists have tried to comprehend the phenomenon of inequality. CHAPTER THREE

RESEARCH BACKGROUND

The fieldwork on which this study is based was carried out during 20 months residence in the Republic of South

Africa. Map 1 shows the eastern portion of the Republic of

South Africa which includes the two research sites: Durban, on the Indian Ocean coast, and Johannesburg in the northern interior. Research was conducted in two African townships which will be more fully described in the next chapter.

However, as a background to the fieldwork itself, it is important to make clear that the researcher could not by law and did not live in either of the communities of study; rather my residence was in the "White" town and I commuted daily by car to the townships. Full-time research in

Kwa Mashu, Durban (the smaller, newer, and predominantly

Zulu township) took place from January to September, 1973; and research in Soweto, Johannesburg (an older, larger and multi-ethnic township-complex) was conducted from October,

1973 to August, 1974.^ There are several important aspects

Although some material from both research townships has been used, the present report deals for the most part with Soweto Its larger numbers of people considered as "pace setters" or "elite," and the scale and scope of their activities provided a wider screen on which to illustrate the social mosaic.

20 MAP 1 -- THE EASTERN PORTION OF THE REPUBLIC OF SOUTH AFRICA SHOWING PRINCIPAL CITIES, SCHEDULED AREAS, AND THE THREE INDEPENDENT AFRICAN TERRITORIES.

Source: Lutz Hoizner and Graham H. T, Hart, The Profes s ional

Geographer , Vol. XXII, Number 2, March, 1970:71. 22 Z3

of doing field research in a divided society such as South

Africa and these are related to assumption, technique, and

method. These aspects will be discussed below along with

the nature and objectives of the research.

Assumptions and Rationale

In any cross-cultural research we must make certain,

wherever possible, that we do not take as given the answers

to questions which should be asked. This point is especially

important in dealing with the topic that social science con-

ventionally calls "social stratification." The previous

chapter suggested some of the confusion that social

stratification can generate among observers. Nowhere is an

examination of the assumptions contained in our descriptive

and analytical concepts so imperative and yet so generally

lacking. Precisely because of the assumptions generally

made in regard to social stratification, studies of this

subject, where they exist, consist largely of fitting

empirical data into a predetermined mold. In order to

avoid that sort of mindless exercise and in order to pro-

vide a background against which the research objectives may

be viewed, we must examine the nature of the assumptions

surrounding the term "social stratification."

What then is implicit and inherent in the term

"social stratification?" The stratigraphic image of society

implies a pansocietal hierarchy and a layer-cake distri-

bution of horizontal layers with each layer called a 24

particular "class" or "stratum." The idea of soc i ety-wide strata

plays an important part in both Marx's and Weber's schemes,

and while it is impossible to adequately summarize their

contributions, mention must be made here of a few of their

points most central to the present discussion.

In the late 18th Century ideological clashes over

hereditary power and status, the stratigraphic image of

society crystal 1 i zed . It seems to have been taken over by

Marx as a means of conceptualizing the new inequalities of

industrial capitalism. He had drawn attention to the fact

that human beings no longer worked in family or neighborhood

groups, or for paternalistic masters as in agrarian-feudal

societies, but in factories where the exchange of their

labor (their relationship to the means of production) was

the paramount feature. The laborers were subject to ex-

ploitation since they were non-owners of the means of

production. The class so defined--the "class in themselves"

is transformed into a "class for themselves" through

conciousness of their common situation. History, for Marx,

is the process whereby non-owning classes overthrow owning classes, thereby establishing themselves, their characteris- tic means of production, and their ideology as dominant

(Marx in Parsons et al . , 1 961:1 36, 529).

Weber, in his discussion nearly a half century later, attempted to relativize the Marxian scheme--to remove the

illusion of historical inevitability. He speaks of "class

status" which is dependent on the kind and extent of 25

control or lack of control which the individual has over

goods or services. The term "class status" for Weber has

three aspects: (1) provision with goods; (2) external condi-

tions of life; and (3) subjective satisfaction or frustration

possessed by an individual or a group (Weber in Parsons

1 et al . , 961:573 ). Weber's "class" is any group occupying

the same "class status." Such a status-group is a collec-

tivity bound by common "ideal and material" interests, i.e

interests defined by culture. These groups were for Weber

vehicles for social change. Even though he uses the term

"stratum," and uses it in a specialized sense (Weber in

Parsons et al., 1961:573, 575), Weber is less interested in

broad society-wide layers, than he is in occupational

groups, e.g. entrepreneurs, lawyers, politicians, and

musicians. These groups, in Weber's view, struggle for

cultural and political dominance and in the process reduce

old inequalities and produce new ones.

Warner, too, used a layer-cake imagery in his well-

known work on stratification, and claimed that he had discovered in Yankee City six status-classes which were

ethnosociol ogical . Other social scientists see this six- class system as a reification:

It is difficult on the basis of his data [Warner's] to sustain the notion either that there existed six clearly bounded, culturally distinguishable, stratified groups... or that the citizens of Yankee City (or some substantial proportion of them) viewed their inequalities in precisely this light (Fallers 1973:22). 26

Fallers suggests and in fact emphasizes instead that, in

terms of persons, the data can more plausibly be read as

revealing an "unbroken status continuum, from top to bottom,

with persons classifying their fellow-townsmen into equals,

superiors, and subordinates...." Despite critics or

adherents of Warner's work, we can say that he contributed

a fuller appreciation of the culture of inequality, i.e. the significant part played by symbols of prestige and

styles of life and how they are meaningful to social actors.

Some authors doubt the assumption that the term

"social strati ficat ion" wi th its horizontal strata or classes represents a natural or even necessary way of viewing societies; and further they doubt that social stratification is the best term to describe a specific phenomenon. Dumont

(1970:19-20) has questioned the utility of the term with respect to India, and Fallers (1973) has found difficulty in using the idea in Africa and the Middle East. The latter author suggests that the term originated in the historical circumstances of contemporary Western societies, is a poor name for the phenomenon it ostensibly describes, and should be applied with caution to other times and places. Social scientists might, it has been suggested, substitute the term inequality which is more stra i g htf orwa rd and less loaded with cultural bias. In order to avoid the assumptions of layer-cake stratification and its attendant definitional difficulties, the term "inequality" will be used in the 27

present study. Hence, we will be in the position to ask

the nature of inequalities rather than taking their exis-

tence or form as a given.

The term ^’inequality" simply indicates the presence of

some or other differences between persons within a

specified social unit. The differences themselves may be

left open for research, i.e. left as questions to be

answered and not taken as givens at the outset. The nature

of the differences seen by an outsider and those considered meaningful to persons living in the specific unit may differ.

The same may be true of the form of the differences. Hence,

using a conceptual framework such as social stratification which grows out of a Western cultural context and which carries with it the idea of a pan-societal hierarchy of

layers (i.e. classes or strata ), imposes this cultural

bias. The seemingly ever-present problems in such research of "How many classes?" or "Where does one end and the next

begin?" may not be problems at all. They may have been created out of the very presuppositions or assumptions con-

tained within such questions , If those whose lives are encompassed within the social unit under study view their

inequalities through eyes not conditioned to looking for a system of layers, the question of "How many layers?" is neither relevant nor useful. In other words, by using the term "inequality" we do not assume that strata or

classes are a natural way of viewing differences, nor do we assume that the same differences are considered 28

significant in various societies. Further the use of the

term "inquality" makes the researcher doubly aware of

ethnosoc i ol og ical distinctions since the term 'inequality''

immediately suggests an exploration of what the persons in

the social unit under study perceive as equality, both

among themselves and with regard to members of other social

units.

In the present study, it will be necessary to refer

to a collectivity of persons who enjoy a position of pre-

eminence over all others within the autonomous African sub-

system of statuses. Since the term "class" or the term

"stratum" for most social scientists ( caveats aside) still carry connotations of a system of numerous such divisions,

the term "elite" shall be used. This term, as used here and as generally agreed upon, predicates neither a particu- lar system of government nor symbolizes a narrow political creed. The occupants of this position of pre-eminence have greater access to or command over benefits than others have, and are paid deference because of this. In our use of elite we refer "solely to position in the social structure and not to any particular behavior patterns or domestic

habits, social styles, or moral values" ( Brandel -Syr ier

1971:xxvi). While such social styles or moral values may

be i applied et hno soc ol og i ca 1 1 y , the social science concept elite does not impose them. Furthermore, the superior- ity of a collectivity designated an elite is general i zed .

As Nadel (1956:417) points out, it will be not only the 29

wealth of the rich or the learning of the educated that will

envied or admired; but also what is viewed as their general-

ized skills, interests, achievements, or characteristic

manners. All these will be regarded as valued qualities

and judged desirable. In addition, these qualities evaluated

as desirable must also be judged imitable. Elites exercise,

enact, and exemplify pre-eminence. In doing so an elite

is a standard-setting group and communicates certain values

through enactment; hence, demonstrating and reinforcing

them (Nadel 1956:418).

Elite (Bottomore 1964; Eisenstadt 1952; Goldthorpe

1955; Pareto 1935) is a useful concept in the present case for several reasons: (1) it avoids imposition of the assumption of horizontal layer-cake distribution; (2) it merely indicates a position in the social structure and does not carry with it any cultural loading by implying any associated behavioral or moral manifestations; (3) it draws the attention of an observer to the values, beliefs, and ideals of a society making that observer less prone to the imposition of his own pre-selected criteria of evalua- tion; (4) it may demonstrate any shift in values and ideals since elites distill and epitomize these values and ideals; and (5) it is a convenient and useful short- hand that "holds together intellectually what hangs to- gether empirically." And, continues Nadel, the value of the term derives from the "correspondence of the meaning we

read into 'elite' with a rel evant set of empirical facts" (1956:414 ). 30

This section has concentrated on assumptions and their

implications for the rationale of the research. We have

made explicit the assumptions underlying the terms ‘^social

stratification," and "stratum." The assumption underlying

the use of elite is that there exists in reality a set of

related facts, a particular combination of characteristics

which must be recognized and referred to by an observer,

and which are meaningful to a society's members.

It must be made clear that elite i s not commonly

used et 1 hnosoc iol og ica 1 y at Soweto. In fact, its use is

determinedly avoided wherever possible. We shall return

to this point in a later chapter. However, a constrastive

term is consistently used by those who occupy positions of

pre-eminence. In social participation, conversation, dis-

cussions, and arguments, those who occupy positions of pre-

eminence, set themselves apart from those they call the

"masses," i and they do so nteracti onal 1 y in various ways

that are explored in Part II of this study.

With the assumptions discussed above clearly in mind, we can now turn to a summary of the objectives of the research carried out in the field.

Objectives

The overall objective of the research was to examine the nature, forms, and development of intra-African in- equalities with the aim of constructing a model grounded in

social reality. This model would not only provide some of 31

the comparative data from which it was generated, but also

serve as a basis for pinpointing the degree to which

goodness-of-f i t exists between Western-derived models and

the African case. A further general objective was to provide

descriptive data to supplement the dearth of studies focused

on this aspect of urban Africans' lives.

Specifically, the short-range aims of the research were to; (1) reveal the nature and forms of such inequalities as might exist within the autonomous African subsystem of

status; (2) discover criteria considered important by actors

themselves; (3) determine whether the employment of these criteria affects informal interpersonal association;

(4) investigate the various distinctive norms of behavior and how they are agreed upon and validated; (5) determine how means are developed for reasserting such norms when they appear to have been challenged; (6) examine the specific patterns of interaction and association among various social networks of the resea rch population; (7) explore the impor- tance of ethnicity in interpersonal association; (8) explore the relationships which may exist between elite Africans and other urban Africans to determine e.g., if the elite act as "cultural brokers." The research strategy described below was used in order to explore the nature of the in- equalities between urban Africans. 32

Procedure and Plan of Work

Fieldwork was conducted in two urban African townships:

(1) Kwa Mashu Township, Durban, Natal; and (2) Soweto

Township, Johannesburg, Transvaal. Soweto, a longer

established (since 1932), larger, heterogeneous townshi p, has

one section, Dube, where many of the "socialites" and

"middle class''^ are concentrated. Kwa Mashu, in existence

since 1956, as yet has no well-established section similar

to Dube. Kwa Mashu township does include a group of choice

sites. However, as of the time of this study, only one modern, privately-built house had been completed in the area of these sites. Now that Kwa Mashu is being declared part of an adjoining African homeland (Kwa Zulu), those residents wishing to have more luxurious homes built will have the security of being able to purchase the land which they

2 occupy. All these factors should accelerate the concentra- tion of many of Kwa Mashu's "socialites" and "middle class" into this residential area. Such concentration should provide for closer ties between elite Africans and form a

These terms are in frequent use in African newspapers such as"Ilanqa lase Natal," or in the English language but primarily African-oriented "World" or the township edition of the "Rand Daily Mail."

2 . . Since early 19/5, when the South African Parliment enacted legislation entitling urban Africans to 30-year leasehold on certain properties in the townships, these residents would have been eligible. .

33

highly visible model or reference group of Africans for other

residents with an upwardly mo bile orientation. Hellmann

(1967:20) has stressed that the influence and importance of

this elite segment far outweighs its numbers.

The usual dilemma involved in attempting to describe the nature of inequalities was partially circumvented by focusing specifically on interaction and the evaluations on which it is partially based. The dilemma stems from the fact that if subjective views of the numbers of a society in terms of their mutual evaluations are elicited, then the result represents many microsystems which are at best loosely integrated with each other. On the other hand, if objective definitions of the inequality applied by the observer are employed, "the picture becomes much simpler, but the universe with which one endeavors to deal is gro- tesquely pulled out of shape" (van den Berghe 1970:368).

Hence, for purposes of the research, three criteria were used for distinguishing various categories within the re- search population: (1) the observation of interaction, i.e. the frequency, intensity, and duration of interaction with other persons; (2) the examination of awareness of like interests or common standing as revealed in the state- ments and in specific behavior manifestations of actual persons; and (3) examination of distinctive sub-culture or life-style in order to pinpoint sub-cultural differences which may be reinforced by the generation of common norms and values, and, which in turn, may feed back into such life~ styl es .

34

In order to gather information on this basis, the

primary social anthropological methods of research were used.

These include participant observation; collection of some genealogies and life histories; conversational, focused, and structured interviews; social network and set analysis^ and situational analysis. 2

Compata bi 1 i ty of Perspective, Problem and Population

The analytical perspective of inequality is applicable to the study of urban Africans in South Africa for three reasons. First, as shown earlier, Pauw (1963:179) has suggested that with increasing economic and industrial advancement of Africans, the upper stratum may become further differentiated into different strata. He is sug- gesting that further inequalities may arise, and in the last chapter of Part II, we will return to the question of how inequalities in the African context may best be conceptu- alized. In other words, despite the strictures of

apartheid , social differentiation within the African sub- system of statuses exists and may be expected to continue.

Plotnicov (1967:12) has suggested that by "tracing a person's movements through his fields of social action one can enumerate the various social groups and in- stitutional categories that comprise his world of social context and reference, and one can also define the degree of intensity and the quality of participation." Further details on the method and its uses are contained in Barnes (1954), Bott (1957), Epstein (1961), Mayer (1962), Srinivas and Bateille (1 964), Gutkind ( 1 965a ; 1 965b) , Mitchell

(1 966;1 ) 969, ed . 2 Also called the "extended-case method" such analysis allows for a description of the way in which social 35

since the economic integration of Africans with the dominant

White color-caste is "proceeding with little diminution"

(Siedle 1970:59). Second, it has been suggested (Schwab

1961:143) that when the urban African population becomes

more stable and the family becomes the basic social unit,

"it may be more meaningful to speak of social class." That

South Africa's urban African population fulfills these

criteria is clear--a considerable part of this urban popu-

lation live, rear their children, and die in town.^ Many

have their major ties bounded by the urban areas and they

no longer have any important personal links with the rural

areas and no home or "Homeland" anywhere but in town

(Mayer 1962:580). Furthermore, in Kwa Mashu and in Soweto

the populations by and large are composed of families; since

single individuals, except under special circumstances, are

not entitled to be the registered renter of a house.

Finally, as noted by Wilson and Mafeje (1963:152), differen-

tiation in Langa, a Cape Town township, was limited by the

absence of opportunity for the "middle class" to own or

build their own houses or to live in a different quarter.

Africans in Kwa Mashu and in Soweto do have this oppor-

tunity so that differentiation may be expected to operate. relationships are manipulated to the personal advantage of individuals involved in them. For further elaboration of this method see Glue km an (1961:5-17), van Velsen (1964:xxiii-xxix, 1967:129-149).

^Roughly one-third of all Africans in South Africa are urban dwellers. According to 1970 population statistics of a total of 15,057,951 Africans, 4,988,147 were urban dwellers. 36

These factors indicate that the research population was compatible with the research problem and objective. In addition, as we have seen in the previous chapter, there are clues amid the confusion of observers' comments to indicate the growing importance of achievement criteria in some urban African communities.

Fieldwork Problems and Methods

How does one begin anthropological fieldwork in a large city, where one knows no one and in a country where the motives of a "White" might legitimately be suspect by resi- dents of an African township. Participant observation, after all, depends on the willingness of residents of such a city to allow participation in their lives and observation of various events and the everyday round of their activities.

Such willingness depends on establishing rapport without which a study such as the present one would be impossible.^

In Kwa Mashu the dilemma of how to enter the field of study and develop such rapport was eased by six months previous fieldwork in 1969, and by the fact that contacts had been maintained with a number of people whom I could again visit and with whom a degree of trust and rapport had already been built. My concern was to obtain from these persons a

^Examples, cases, and people named or discussed in Part II represent real people and social action. However, every effort has been made to protect their privacy and anonimity by modification of actual cases. Names which ap- pear may be found in the townships, but none are actual case names. The cases, nevertheless, are composites representative 37

picture of how they conceived that their social relations were built up over time, on what criteria, and how they were carried on. Since I did not want to begin my research saddled with (or saddling respondents with) the assumption that layer-cake type of stratification was a given, I had to be cautious in my initial explanations of the study focus.

The aim was simply to get to know who was who in the town- ship and in its activities and on what basis the various people were evaluated. One way of accomplishing this was to ask my acquaintances for an overall view of people who were influential, important, powerful, outstanding, active, dynamic, well-known, or trend-setting. In other words, to determine who was known for expertise in a given sphere or just in a generalized sense.

With the limited time and funds at my disposal, a general survey based on any sort of township-wide random sampling was clearly not possible and would in any event not

have been germane to the overall objectives I had set.

Since social differentiation was my focus and since

residents clearly "had in mind" certain criteria, I approached the problem by "starting at the top" using the adjectives already listed above when discussing the township with local resident-experts of my acquaintance. In other words, the research set included people who might be called elite,

of real people. The composites demonstrate the mechanism of scuttling and are used in order to illuminate the social mosaic. 38

but because of the arbi trary nature of defining particularly the minimums for membership in such a category, I make no claim to have included the total elite of either township in the present study.

At Soweto, as stated above, there is a concentration of privately-built houses in one township, Dube. However,

I realized shortly after I began meeting Soweto residents just how reality would have been distorted by limiting the study to Dube residents alone--many links among the elite led outside that township to some of the adjoining residen- tial areas. Soweto residents, both those who live at Dube and those who live elsewhere, are fond of joking about outsiders who think that Dube is the only place to find any

"civilized" Africans. A sample drawn only from Dube area

(a manageable size for my limited resources) would have yielded a population skewed heavily toward the more highly educated or the economically well-off segments; a sample which at first glance would seem well suited to the research objectives. However, it is essential to remember that much more than quantifiable characteristics are required to lend

socialite or elite status, i.e. more than objective or quantifiable differences are of critical import in determin- ing whether someone is or is not viewed as "making it."

In other words, certain minimum standards seem evident in

"making it," but the presence of such standards does not necessarily indicate elite membership. Hence, such a ran- dom sample would merely have indicated potential but not 39

actual socially defined and recognized persons of pre-eminence.

Such a sample was rejected on the basis that the subjective

criteria of differentiation could not be effectively

garnered from sample data without the imposition of external

criteria by the researcher. In addition, the sample would

have taken time away from gathering information on a far

wider spectrum elite network than Dube alone could offer.

Through personal contacts and relationships which were devel-

oping, I felt that there was every 1 i kel i hood that information on this wider spectrum could be better gained by having more opportunity for the personal involvement (and hence partici- pation) so important in determining the inside view of the culture of inequality.

The entry into Soweto was facilitated by several factors. One was the fact that before leaving Durban a number of people had given me the names and addresses of people they knew in Johannesburg, whom they though could introduce me to still others and who would, because of this personal recommendation from another African, possibly be more ready or willing to assist in the research endeavor.

Because of my experience in Durban I had learned that it is often the case that moving into a community through members of that community (despite some dangers inherent in being identified with one "camp" or clique) is advan- tageous. In addition, through Johannesburg's University of the Witwatersrand, I had become acquainted with a

Soweto resident trained in sociology who was conducting her 40

own on-going research, and who generously offered to assist

me in becoming familiar with the geography of the township-

complex as well as introducing me to a number of contacts.

Both of these factors proved invaluable in my entry into

the Black community of Soweto.

In conducting an intensive study it became readily

apparent that respondents and resident-experts who were

willing to cooperate in such an undertaking were to some

degree self-selected. This, however, is not a special dis-

advantage since the same can also be the case with a given

sample from any universe. In addition, with the degree of

continuous follow-up, the type of information desired, and

the amount of time necessary for depth probing of subtle

criteria of differentiation, such self-selection could be a

distinct advantage as long as it was recognized as a poten-

tial source of bias and distortion.

I n t e rv i ews--c on ver sa t i on a 1, focused, and some structured,

were conducted personally and a research assistant was

usually able to act as interpreter when necessary. However,

much of the work in both townships was conducted in English,

one of the official languages of South Africa. Informal

conversations were also guided by current national and inter-

national events as these appeared in the three English-

language newspapers read by Sowetons. Along with diaries, field notes, records of events and the like, a file of cuttings from the township editions of the "Rand Daily Mail,"

the "Star ," and the "World" newspapers was kept throughout 41

the course of the research. I was able to learn very

rudimentary Zulu, first language of Kwa Mashu; but at

Soweto I soon lost hope of learning something of each of the seven main African languages used there. English was used to a much greater extent at Soweto and it is viewed as a prestige language.

Participant observation was in the great bulk of cases carried out by the researcher. Additional observations were gleaned from either expert friends in Kwa Mashu or a a research s s i sta nt- i nter prefer . At Soweto, too, respondents, a research asssitant- interpreter, or expert friends helped with observations as the later work progres- sed. Brandel -Syrier (1971:298) has pointed out the dis- continuous nature of participant observation under apartheid , but she, too, has stressed that it is by no means impossible to develop good rapport and carry out participant observa- tion in an African township.

It would appear that the difficulties reported by

Pendleton (1974:9) in an African township in South-West

Africa, where apartheid is also applied, are partially a function of the fact that a forced relocation of township residents was taking place during the period he mentions.

He contends that due to the rigid color bar, close personal friendships between Whites and Africans normally do not occur; and he goes on to explain that because of this fact direct participant observation in African social life was "often not possible," that it was "awkward for people if I stayed for a long period of time," and that "even when my visits

were short, my informants had to explain my visit to their

inquisitive neighbors after I left." He complains that there were "only a few places in the townships where I could

just 'hand around' and watch what people were doing," While

all this might be an accurate assessment of the first months of the fieldwork process, it is by no means represent- ative of my experience in two African townships thereafter.

The development of rapport in both of the research townships proceeded simultaneously as the circle of contacts was widening. This is a strategy requiring a memory for a prodigious number of names and faces and the self-control not to respond in bad temper to the chastisement of a township companion who asks, "Don't you remember X? You met him only a couple of weeks ago at M's shop, near Y's house." This being the initial stage of work, a researcher hardly knows which shop belongs to whom, where Y's house is or what it looks like, and who Y is, let alone remember- ing X who was hurriedly introduced, and then ran to catch a bus or a lift. The point to be made by this example is two-fold: first, that learning an orientation which is then shared with the research population is a gradual pro- cess; and second, that by involvement (many times superfi- cial) with a large circle of people (potential respondents) the researcher can and does make the acquaintance of some residents and that friendships do develop among some of these acquaintances. s

43

As my circle of acquaintances widened, invitations, both casual and more formal, began to be offered. I attended meetings of various voluntary associations within which clique groups formed and this attendance often gave entry to various homes, conversations, and interviews. Of course, as contacts expanded, I gave lifts in my car or caught lifts.

I was both a borrower and a lender with members of the three cliques I knew best at Soweto, and especially within these circles, I not only spent many working hours, but also periods of relaxation. Along with my husband I took two short holiday weekends, one to Botswana and the other to Swaziland with some of the people we had come to know best. There were a number of places where I could just "hang around," watch what people were doing, hear what the topics of conver- sation were, and chat informally. It was easy to just "drop in"-- in fact, if I neglected to do so, I would get word

through X or Y that Z was looking for me or wondered why I had not called by that week.

Gatherings for various personal occasions occupied a good deal of time for everyone including this researcher.

I attended and participated in numerous events and occasions.

Some of these were life-cycle related, others recreational , sometimes, but by no means always, wi th aspects of profit involved (like the stokf el in its numerous forms). These occasions included night vigils for the dead, funerals, un- veilings of tombstones, weddings, birthdays, barbecues,

sto kf el , farewell or welcome parties for various residents. 44

or impromptu parties, in addition to various organizations'

meetings and teas, jazz festivals, and dramatic productions.

Involvement in all of these further drew me into reciprocity

networks, such as gifts to friends for various occasions

and their gifts to me, a lift in someone's car, appropriate

special occasion cards moving in both directions, my borrow-

ing of a hat of appropriate style or color, or a coat or

shawl with a sudden change in weather. Through oversight I

found myself without ready cash and also borrowed that, as well as lent it. A cup of tea or coffee, a cold drink or a meal, i.e. whatever was on hand for the family, was offered as a matter of course to any visitor to show hospitality.

So if I was detained unexpectedly, as often happended, there was usually little necessity to go to a fish and chips shop for food, or to worry about the availability of a place to wash up or change to attend an evening function.

Naturally there was suspicion, especially initially, and of course, there were the renewals of permits issued by the West Rand Board required to enter Soweto (or by its counterpart to enter Kwa Mashu). On a few occasions police stopped me and asked for my permit and identification. But despite the regulations and the divisions imposed by the strictures of the ruling ideology, some degree of rapport can be built between Black and White. Conducting social research in the townships, this researcher found, as did

Brandel -Syr ier (1971:299), that it is an advantage to be an independent female researcher without particular social .

45

standing or academic eminence. Being an American, i.e. foreign to the politics of South Africa, clearly speaking an accented English was also somewhat of an aid both in terms of my "stranger value" and in the process of developing rapport

In the chapter which follows, we shall see more specifically something of the setting in which the research was carried out, and something of the types of legislation which are designed to create an equal subordination for all

Africans and in particular for urban dwellers. .

CHAPTER FOUR

RESEARCH SETTING

South Africa: Land of Contrasts

South Africa is a land of many stark contrasts. The low lush sub-tropical sugar-cane growing areas of the Indian

Ocean coast near Durban, with its world-famous beaches, con- trast sharply with the inland industrial, financial, and mining center of Johannesburg, with its characteristic mine dumps and 6,000 foot altitude. Outside this city, the land- scape consists mostly of open almost treeless grassland of the high veld which for half the year receives little rain- fall and is a dull lifeless brown. In the rainy season, farmers transform this landscape into huge waving fields of wheat and corn. Brown pasturel ands , refreshed by summer I rains, provide large grazing areas for the cattle of the rural areas. The flat arid semi-desert Karoo in the Cape

Province contrasts sharply with the craggy mountainous regions in the same Province also famous for its vineyards which thrive in the Mediterranean climate. Along the east- ern escarpment are the great snow-capped peaks of the Dra kensbergs

The small African kraals of rural Africa still exist in the same country that is also noted for its large urban

46 47

centers like Johannesburg with international corporations housed in tall modern office towers. High-rise apartment complexes and single-family dwellings, some in the suburbs, offer accomodation and facilities of a high standard to some.

Another contrast, perhaps less obvious to the casual visitor, is the juxtaposition of great wealth and power with extreme . This same situation occurs to some degree in many countries, including the United States. But in South

Africa, we have a striking picture of exclusive White com- fort, privilege, and power. Juxtaposed to these latter are the severe poverty and powerlessness of large numbers of those who are "Black," i.e. Indian, Coloured, and especially

African. The basic patterns of "enforced racial segregation, discrimination in favor of whites, inequality in the pro- vision of resources and facilities and inequality of oppor- tunity" (Randall 1973:16) based on color are characteristic and form the basis for much legislation. As we shall see shortly, the discrimination in favor of Whites is reflected in the very institutions which make up South African society.

Political power is a monopoly in the hands of Whites, and their disproportionate share of the country's vast resources has led to a gross imbalance among the four legally defined

and institutionalized color groups. Table 1 shows the percentage distribution of the four official color-castes in South Africa. e 9

48

TABLE 1

PERCENTAGE DISTRIBUTION OF THE FOUR OFFICIAL COLOR-CASTES REPUBLIC OF SOUTH AFRICA

Official Color-Caste

WHITES 3,800,000 17.8

COLOUREDS 1 ,966,000 9.4

ASIATICS 614,000 2 . AFRICANS

(By Ethnic Group) :

Zulu 3,970,000 18.6

Xhosa 3,907,000 18.3

Tswana 1 ,702,000 8.0

North Sotho 1 ,596,000 7.5

South Sotho 1 ,416,000 6.7

Shangaan 731 ,000 3.4

Swazi 487,000 2.3

Ndebel 41 0,000 1 .9

Venda 360,000 1 .7

Others 314,000 1 .5

TOTAL AFRICANS 1 4,893,000 69.9

GRAND TOTAL 21 ,303,000 100.0

Source: Edelstein 1973:51 Census data of May 6, 1970. 49

A brief examination of some key institutions^ in South

Africa should reveal the nature and extent of some of the inequities which are supported and perpetuated by these in- stitutions. One South African has written that "from birth to death we live in a segregated, discriminatory, unequal, and unjust society (Randall 1973:16). It will be seen below that the widest gap--the starkest contrast--exists between Black (African) and White.

The Educational System

Although education is free and compulsory for Whites in South Africa up to the age of sixteen, it is not for

Blacks. Fifteen times as much is spent by the State on each

White school child as is spent on each African, with Coloured and Indian (Asiatics) between these two extremes (SPROCAS

1971:17, 24 et passim). Like other institutions in South

Africa, the educational system is based on apartheid

(apartness), and is oriented to "separate development" (a

euphemism for apartheid ) . "Separate development" will be treated more fully in the following sections of the present chapter. Bantu (African) Education further separates the

Afican population into ethnic groups (see Table 1), and

An examination of such brief scope can hope only to sketch in broad strokes some of the aspects of South Africa which may enable the reader to grasp some of the stark realities of oppression based on racism. The historical roots of South Africa, her peoples, land, and economy, etc. can be found more adequately treated at length in a number of works (cf. Adam 1971; de Kiewiet 1941; Morrell 1970, 1971, 1972; Johnstone 1970; Kuper 1965; Marquard 1962; Patterson 1953; Randall 1970, 1973; Siedle 1970; van den

Berghe 1 965 , 1970). 50

Africans as a whole receive a different form of education

from all other color groups. Africans must generally pur-

chase their own books and paper and pay school fees. "Why,"

Africans ask, "should we, the poorest group, have to pay for

textbooks while these are supplied free to children of the wea Ithier groups?"

Teachers in Black schools must often teach double

sessions (wherein the educational day is shortened from 41/2

to 3 hours and each teacher is responsible for two successive

groups). Each teacher is responsible for about 50 children.

This system applies to over 80 percent of African children

in their first two years at school, and they are in any case admitted to school at a later age than other children

(SPROCAS 1971:26).

The alarming drop-out rate of young African children is 25 percent who leave after their first year and less than

1 percent complete secondary school (SPROCAS 1971:22). By the end of their second year of school (sub-standard B), more than half those admitted in first grade (sub-standard

A) will have left (Randall 1973:19) to join the ranks of

"superfluous Africans," street gangs, newspaper vendors in city streets, etc. During their first year at school, these children are exposed to classes in the two official langua- ges of South Africa (namely English and Afrikaans), as well as their own vernacular language.

Where double-sessions do not apply, the pupi 1 -teacher ratio is 60:1, in contrast to the ration 21:1 in White schools 51

(SPROCAS 1971:25). A number of African teachers are

unqualified (figures vary around 19-20 percent from 1960-

1968), and this is still a problem in the townships today,

since teacher training institutions cannot produce enough

graduates to keep pace with demand. And when they have

reached the maxima of their salary scales an African teacher,

an Indian head of a division in a technical college, and a

Coloured lecturer at the University of the Western Cape

still earn less than the start! nq salaries of their

White colleagues with the same qualifications (SPROCAS 1971:

29). These facts must be viewed in light of the participa-

tion of all these persons in the common South African

economy where all pay the same prevailing market prices. The Economic System

Per capita income in South Africa is among the highest

in the world--if you are White (Randall 1973:23). On an

average, these White incomes are more than 13 times as high

as African incomes. However, since per capita income is

a misleading measure of development where there is grossly

unequal distribution of wealth, it will be necessary to

look at a statistically determined measure of poverty--the

Poverty Datum Line. This figure, which has been described as an indequate minimum, is:

perhaps more remarkable for what it omits than for what it includes. It makes no allowances for amusements, sport, medicine, education, savings, hire purchase, holi- days, newspapers, odd bus rides, stationery, tobacco... (Batson quoted in SPROCAS 1972: 19). 52

In a survey in Soweto, the South African Institute of Race

Relations reported that in 1971 only some 29 to 32 percent

of residents earned more than $90.00 per month, ^ At this

time the P.D.L. for a family of five in Soweto was estimated

at $100.70 per month. In other words, 68 to 71 percent

were living below the P.D.L. , while 14,22 percent were

estimated to earn less than $60.00 per month, i.e. to be O living in even more dire financial straits. These figures

compared with an estimated 2 percent of Whites who can be

classified as "poor" (South African Institute of Race

Relations 1971), The fol 1 owi ng fi gures- show actual average

monthly earnings in manufacturing and secondary industries

in May , 1970:

Manufactur i ng Construction

White R287 ($430.50) R304 ($456.00) Indian 71 ($106.50) 147 ($220.50)

Col oured 68 ($ 102 . 00 ) 103 ($154.50) African 50 ($ 75.00) 47 ($ 70.50)

Furthermore, the gap between Black and White wages on

the gold mines greatly exceeds that in manufacturing indus- tries and has increased rather than decreased (SPROCAS 1972;

21 ).

For purposes of calculations in the present study, che Rand has been used as equivalent to U.S. $1.50. 2 However, the reader is also referred to another survey carried out in 1970, reported in a later section (Black townships) of the present chapter, which shows different figures. Such discrepancies are not uncommon in reputable research reports on African townships. Both studies are used here to indicate the range of variation among different studies. 3 Figures calculated from industrial censuses and labor statistics. News release, August 19,1970, Department of Statistics, South Africa. ^ 53

It has been estimated that Black miners were earning no

more--and possibly less-- in real terms than their grand-

). fathers in 1911 (Wilson 1 972 : 45-67

The South African tax system provides a striking

example of built-in discrimination in the economic sphere.

Blacks bear additional tax burdens. Regardless of their

age or size of family, all Africans begin paying income

tax when their incomes reach $540 per year. Other non-

African groups begin paying only at $1,014 per year with

other deductions according to marital status, number of

children, and age (Randall 1973:23). Old-age pensions,

blind pensions, and disability grants reveal a striking dis-

parity as well. The maximum rate for such pensions for

Whites is double that for Coloured and Asiatics and seven 9 times that for Africans.

White trade unions are legally recognized--Black ones

are not. However this did not (duToit 1975a), and no doubt

will not in the future, prevent African workers from striking

for the higher wages they need to keep up with rising in-

flation, let alone narrow the wage gap between themselves

More recently (during 1973, 1974, and early 1975) in- creases in Black wages on the mines have altered this position. Anglo-American is one firm in the sphere of ex- tractive industries where these increases have occurred. Although the wage gap in this industry may recently have been narrowed, the differentials between White and Black in terms of type of job open to each, and hence wages earned, still exist. And in other industrial spheres the wage gap is widening. 2 These 1971-calculated figures have since undergone various increases. However, the overall effect was to widen still further the differential already demonstrated above. . d

54

and White workers. There are three sets of forces operative

which perpetuate the wide disparity between skilled and un-

skilled wage rates. First, there are legislative and cus-

tomary hindrances to the vertical mobility of Black workers.

In addition, there is the fact that lower-paid jobs are occu-

pied by Africans and Coloureds primarily because of inade-

quate access to education and to industrial training as well

as the operation of the social color bar. And there is the

constant possibility of replacement of unskilled labor which

results from the high rate of natural increase (Houghton

1 971 :43 )

The restrictions on the use of labor go far back into

the history of South Africa, and the policy of job reserva-

tion continues them. In South Africa, one hears much about

a shortage of skilled labor. What this means is a shortage

of White workers either to do or to be trained for certain jobs classed as skilled jobs. This is a contrived scarcity which results from barriers to the industrial advance of

Coloured, Asiatic, and particularly African workers (Randall

1 973:40).

The details may have changed, but the overall pattern

has remained the same since long before an African writer in

1959 succinctly pointed out that:

The important thing to remember a bout

aparthei , segregation, or what you will, is that it is designed to keep the black man as cheap labor to serve the white man's needs while ensuring that all wealth, prestige symbols, and political power are effectively held in the white man's .

55

own capable hands. All other arguments, like 'development along their own lines,' 'separate development,' etc. are just so much eyewash for a policy that has nothing to commend it but the rapacity of the white man (Mkele quoted in Randall 1973: 15).

In South Africa racial domination and oppression have been

modernized (Adam 1971:40-52). The South African "govern-

ment attempts to keep the traditional power structure and

ideologies alive in order to use them accordingly in the

framework of a divide ^ impera policy" (Adam 1 971 : 39) Adam explains how apartheid in earlier days rested heavily

on the supposed inferiority of one "race" compared with another. Now the policy called "separate development," under which the "Homelands" ("Bantustans") are being implemented, encourages nationalism and uses it as an ideological solu- tion for the preservation of White supremacy. To borrow

Mkele's term quoted above, justifications such as "develop- ment along their own lines" are just so much ideological

"eyewash" designed to preserve White supremacy in South Africa.

The Political System

South Africa's political system can accurately be described as a racial oligarchy or pigmentocracy in which all significant political power is vested in White hands.

An analysis of the erosion of Black rights since the time of Union in 1910 has shown that at present the Republican

Parliament is representat i ve of White political interests only (SPROCAS 1973:21-23). This Parliament is still 56

the center of power in South Africa no matter how much power

is devolved to separate political institutions created under

the apartheid policy as presently being implemented.

These separate political institutions, the "Bantustans"

or "Homelands" where Africans are to exercise their fran-

chise and eventually to control the educational systems,

health services, and interior affairs are currently in

various stages of implementation and development. Each of

these "Homelands" or "Bantustans" is located in a predom-

inantly rural area and, with the exception of Vendaland and

the Transkei, these areas are scattered and unconsolidated.

One example is the Zulu "Homeland," Kwa Zulu, with its

Chief Minister, Chief Gatsha Buthelezi, who however has con-

sistently refused to take steps leading to "independence."

Such political rights as are to be enjoyed by Africans

resident in "White" areas must be exercised in the separate

political institutions in the African "Homelands." These

"Homelands" or "reserves" have historically served two major functions: that of a pretext for withholding significant political and other rights from Africans in the "White" areas and that of labor reservoirs for the remainder of the country (SPROCAS 1973:32).

The position of African residents in the "White" urban areas is crucial to the policy of "separate develop- ment." These Africans, resident in townships like Kwa

Mashu and Soweto, generally express little real interest in development taking place in their respective "Homelands," 57

since many have severed ties with the rural areas and are

in the truest sense of the word urban or city-rooted Africans.

It is generally in the urban areas that the best-educated and

most sophisticated Africans reside, and their grievances are

vehemently expressed. At the time of the research reported

here, they could not own the land on which their houses

stood, the pass laws and influx control were hated as marks

of oppression, and general alienation directed toward the

government and its representatives was a marked feature of

the townships. The urban Africans with whom I have spoken

have been united in their opposition to the fairly recently

instituted ethnic grouping in urban areas.

Since 1955, the government has used ethnic group

membership as the basis for urban African residential group-

ing in Soweto.^ The same basis is used for the election of members to the advisory Urban Bantu Councils to be discussed

below. In 1974, this ethnic grouping was being imposed into the schools while this researcher was at Soweto. In addition to creating no end of confusion for students, teachers, and principals, parents were opposed to the imposition of such ethnic grouping in the urban area with regard to education.

Blacks stress that the White population of South Africa is not of one ethnic, linguistic, or religious group and comment repeatedly on the fact that no separation in law is imposed

While Whites must live in areas officially designated for their color-caste, there is no further separation of them by law into their constituent ethnic, linguistic or religious category. This contrasts with the regulations governing urban African township areas where for example 58

upon the various White segments, e.g. English-speaking,^

Afrikaans-speaking, Jewish, Catholic, Greek, Italian,

Portuguese, and so on. The urban Africans, especially many social elite, feel, not supri singly, that the government emphasis on African ethnic groups and the imposition of ethnic groups as a criterion affecting various aspects of their lives is part of a tactic of "divide and rule." One

African writer has succinctly summarized this opinion held by the great majority of my respondent sample:

The white race tries to minimise the conflict within and between its ethnic groups in order to maximise its efforts to dominate; it also tries to maximise the conflict within and between the ethnic groups of the oppressed black race in order to minimise the latter's resistance in the racial conlict (Ndebele quoted in Randall 1973:41).

The Black Townships

Row after row of "matchbox" houses, some greengrocers, petrol stations, schools, churches, and clinics stretch outward

a Xhosa family may only be assigned housing in a Xhosa (Nguni) designated portion of an urban Black township. It is, in fact, the case that White children whose home language is English must attend English-language schools. Those who are Afrikaans-speaking must attend Afrikaans-medium schools. In the case of children of marri- ages between the two linguistic groups, parents may choose the school and hence the medium of instruction. For other nationals attending non-private schools, English is usually the medium of instruction. Members of the various religious communities either attend public schools or private schools of their faith. There is, then, no imposition by law of ethnic, or religious grouping other than that between English and Afrikaans. in every direction in an almost uniformly s i ng 1 e- s tor i ed

march to the horizon. Residents of urban African townships

like Kwa Mashu or Soweto prefer to say they live in a

"location" (a term which has a longer and less cosmetic

usage than township). The preference for this term reflects

the feeling of some residents that they live in a place

where one finds not human beings but objects. Their feel-

ing of being treated or regarded as objects is not surprising

in light of the web of rules, regulations, and laws which

surround Black South Africans and affects so many aspects of

their daily lives. Some of this legislation and its immed-

iate effects will be discussed below.

The existence and fucntion of Kwa Mashu, Soweto, and

their counterpart locations throughout South Africa depend

on the Bantu Urban Areas Consolidation Act No. 25 of 1945,

as amended.^ The local authority is empowered to "define,

set apart and lay out one or more areas of land for the

occupation residence and other reasonable requirements of

Bantu ..." [Secti on 2(l)(a)]. This same Act empowers the

local authority to provide houses for families and hostels for laborers permitted to enter the urban areas only as

single "labor units" (whether these persons are married or

This act is a part of the legislative framework of South Africa's policy of "separate development," a euphemism for apartheid , which lays down the conditions under which Africans are allowed to enter, work, and remain in urban areas. A succinct summary of these conditions or external determinants can be found in du Toit (1975a: 199-203). 60

not. The great majority of location families live in a

four-room house rented from the municipality. Some few others

have purchased houses built by the municipality, and fewer

still have been able to alter the basic house at their own

cost or arrange privately to have houses built to fit their

own requirements. But in no case in either township at the

time of the research did anyone own the land on which his

or her house stood. 2

The concentration of the African population within one

area, i.e. outside the areas designated "White" areas, is

consistent with the policy of the National Party which was

first elected in 1948 and today still holds a firm grip on

the reins of power. In pursuing its policies and implemen-

ting its programs, this government has recently shifted its

policy in accordance with a greater willingness to recognize

that Blacks will always remain in the "White" areas, which

constitute some 87 percent of South Africa's territory and

nearly all of its towns and industrial areas, Africans,

while residing in designated townships like Kwa Mashu and

These hostels do not form a part of the present study since the bulk of township residents are not resident in them. It should be noted, however, that increasing numbers of such hostels are being built, both in Johannesburg and in Durban townships, in an attempt to eliminate "superfluous Africans," those not actively employed family members such as children or spouses (Randall 1973:24; Wilson 1972: 2). 2 Less than a year after this research was completed, the South African Parliment in early 1975 enacted legisla- tion, which when put into practice, will entitle urban Africans in certain areas to a 30-year leasehold on land they occupy. 61

Soweto, are officially considered citizens of their

respective ethnic "Homelands," which are in various stages

of design and implementation. At the time of this research

African freehold rights in urban areas had already been

abolished. Demographical ly and statistically who are these

location dwellers? And what sort of place is a location?

These are questions to be dealt with in the remainder of this chapter.

Black Johannesburg: The Township

The acronym, Soweto, came into use in 1963 when it was

shortened from South Western Townships. Soweto, at its

nearest edge, is located some 10-15 miles from "White"

Johannesburg's city center and sprawls over approximately 32

square miles of the Witwatersrand's rolling veld. Map 2

shows the relationship of Soweto's geographical location to

the central city of Johannesburg. When you are in any one

of Soweto's 23 adjoining township areas, you stand within

the fifth largest city in Africa south of the Sahara--a

city unusual in several respects. These townships are

designated on Map 3 which shows the entire town ship-complex

of Soweto. With its unofficial population approaching about

1 million, Soweto can be viewed as a city in numbers and

size, but not in structure and function. It has no in- dustries of its own and its commercial sector is poorly developed (Hellmann 1973:17). Hence, each day some 220,000

people move to and from Johannesburg by electrified train and many thousands more go by car, taxi, or bus to their C\J

"WHITE c\j

-

s- o CL 0)

CENTRAL s-

o

THE fO

tr) TO QJ cc:

4 > O)

5- (SOWETO) 03

4- o

13 03 q; s- 13 JOHANNESBURG CQ

03 U •r~ S- < BLACK

OF o 00

o

RELATION

to • S- 00 QJ .. > I— CITY. THE •f- C CT>

--

cu 2 u s- 13 MAP o oo 63 H1t

S- o U cu s-

APPROXIMATELY

TOWNSHIP- (/> “O c (O

• -0 • WESTERN LU s- -a ai <0 S-.

TOWNSHIPS. LU 0 03 rn CQ 3

UJ C CD

SOUTH >• 0 *r- 1 •r- B — +-> E ro tn S- THE 2: +->

ADJOINING c 00 0 •r- ^ •— c q: •r- C u. E :s C “O 03 23 < ^ rc “O 1— CO cu ID i- JOHANNESBURG. OF 0 •p“ 00 fC "O C|_ c 0 < 03 < “D _J 3

BLACK 05 > 0 CQ CD h- q: _J -Q -J C l-H 03 QC CVJ

COMPLEX SOWETO: LU 4-> CO CO CO 0 CD CT»

--

CD 3 u S- 3 MAP o 65

BOUNDRIES

TOWNSHIP 66

jobs. This movement reflects the symbiotic economic

relationship of Soweto and Johannesburg--Johannesburg jobs

provide Soweto its livelihood, and Soweto provides the

broad base of primarily unskilled and semi-skilled labor

(see Table 2) on which Johannesburg depends for its life.

Soweto as a city is also unusual in that it has no

local governing powers. Soweto is administered by the West

Rand Bantu Affairs Administration Board. This central-

government-appointed board, and its counterparts in some

other areas of South Africa, recently took over from local

authorities the entire administration of Africans in all

its aspects. In the case of Soweto, the local authority in-

volved was the Johannesburg City Council's Non-European

Affairs Department (NEAD). The period of take-over and

transition was so incomplete at the time of my departure

that it is not clear what changes for the immediate future

(or the long term) this administrative shift will bring.

From 1968^the residents of Soweto have been represented

by a body with advisory powers only, the Urban Bantu Council with a "mayor" who serves in the same advisory capacity.

Members of the UBC are elected by popular vote only on an ethnic basis, i.e. only a Zulu can vote for a Zulu nominee.

A lesser number of members are appointed in addition to those elected, and they are appointed on an ethnic basis.

Prior to this time, under a slightly different arrange- ment, Urban Advisory Boards existed which provided a fairly similar '"mirage of high responsibility and the reality of bureaucratic subservience" (Kuper 1965:23). 67

TABLE 2

OCCUPATIONS IN SOWETO; PERCENTAGE DISTRIBUTION

Occupation Percentage*

Professional 1^8

Proprietor and Managerial 4.7

SkilledLabor l.T

Semi-skilled Labor 22.2

Unski lledLabor 56.8

Administrative and Clerical 3.9 Pensioner I .9

Housewife 2.5

Unemployed 3,4

Unemp 1 oya bl e 1.6

AllOccupations 100.0

*Source: Edelstein 1972:59 from University of South Africa Report No. 6 . The reader will note the fact that percentages total to 99.9 and not

100 . 0 . 68

Elections take place every three years, the most recent being

in October, 1974. Thus there was no election during this field work period. Interest in these elections and in the UBC itself has been on the wane since the concerns of the

UBC members and many Soweto residents tend to conflict with

those of the administrators at many points (such as freehold

rights, provision of amenities, acquistion of businesses and

trading rights). The UBC is referred to lovingly by some

councillors and residents alike as the "Useless Bantu

Council," a "dummy institution," or "a sham." Monthly meet-

ings, held at Jabulani UBC chambers, an impressively designed

double-story yellow brick and glass structure that is car-

peted, curtained, and fitted in showcase style, are hardly ever dull, usually lengthy, and play to a consistently nearly empty gallery.

There are, of course, Soweto residents whose work demands that they remain in townshi p--the medical doctors, nurses, principals and teachers, shop owners or their wives, shop assistants, salespersons, social workers, clerks and lower-echelon staff at the some 11 admin istative superinten- dent s offices, housewives, policemen, various merchants including the shebeen owners, coal merchants, petrol station

attendants , etc .

A 1970 survey^ of Soweto showed the average number of persons per dwelling unit to be 5.9 and average

^University of South Africa, Market Research Bureau, Number 27.2 Johannesburg (Soweto) survey, Pretoria, 1971. 69

household^ size to be 5.4 persons. Described by its

demography, Soweto is young with 55 percent of the population

under 20 years of age; with a fairly high birth rate (which

in 1 963 was 37.5/1 000). Of the 1 69 adul ts aged 18-25 years

in the same 1970 survey sample, 92.9 percent were born in

Johannesburg; and of the total number of 757 adults, 46.6

percent were Johannesburg-born. The same survey showed that

the average income of 302 sample households was $130.50 per

month, with the average earnings of the 291 men being $95.28

and of the 221 women $50.85. The Non-European Affairs

Department estimated in 1971 that the minimum monthly expen-

diture on which a family of five could live was $125.97, but the UBC make its own calculations arriving at a figure

of $174.00 per month. It is in any event clear that many

families (estimates range from 68 to 70 percent) live below

even an austerely calculated Poverty Datum Line.

Schools there are and more are needed. There were

in June, 1973, a total of 208 existing schools and of these

12 were post-primary secondary and high schools.^ However, the ethnic grouping introduced late in 1973 (and implemented in early 1974) not only created chaos, but exacerbated the

Those related persons sharing living quarters together, cooking together, and using income as a unit to contribute to their joint needs. A dwelling unit is somewhat larger since it takes into account lodgers or sub-renters. 2 Statistics contained in material provided by the West Rand Bantu Affairs Administration Board. Information on schools, businesses, churches, and creches is taken from their figures. 70

already acute shortage of schools, especially of post

Standard VI (eighth year) level. At the end of 1972, there

was a shortfall of 671 classrooms (Hellmann 1973:21) The

general overall educational picture for Soweto is shown in

Table 3, Schooling is not compulsory and not free for

African children under the government-designed and instituted

system of "Bantu Education" to which Africans are nearly

uniformly opposed (Edelstein 1972), For younger children

some 61 creche facilities run primarily by welfare organiza-

tions catered for about 4,000 children in 1973.

Health services in Soweto are provided by a number of

clinics such as general, tuberculosis, dental, and child

health, which were formerly under the municipality, but dur-

ing the course of the research these were taken over by the

Transvaal Provincial Administration, which also operates

Baragwanath Hospital, This hospital is the largest in the

Southern Hemisphere and one of the largest in the world.

It is the training ground for a large number of African

nurses, and is located only a few miles from Soweto.

Churches, businesses, and two cinemas complete a

thumbnail sketch of Soweto. There are petrol stations of

some major oil companies, small greengrocer shops, butch-

eries, general dealers shops, dry cleaning depots, hair- dressers, etc. The traders are officially not allowed to conduct more than one undertaking; although in practice this appears to be allowed or overlooked by the local authorities. There are 1,705 shops or businesses in all. 71

TABLE 3

EDUCATION IN SOWETO; PERCENTAGE DISTRIBUTION BY "TRIBES"

Educational Level* STD Tribe VIII No School inq STD. VI, VII Higher Xhosa 25.5 28.0 10.5 Tswa na 31 .8 22.3 3.8 Northern Sot ho 34.6 16.3 11.1 Southern Sotho 36.8 24.0 6.4 Zulu 39.4 16.1 8.1 Swazi 39.8 19.3 6.0 Venda 55.2 12.1 1 .7 Shangaan 66.2 9.8 2.4

* S 0 u r c e : E d e 1 s t e i n 1972:62 from University of South Africa Report No. 6 72

and this figure includes 338 grocers, 255 greengrocers, and

132 wood and coal merchants. All are small and all are

expected by government regulation to provide for only the

"daily essential domestic requirements" of Soweto residents.

For the rest of their needs residents patronize the numerous

shops and stores in the "White" city itself. Wood and coal

merchants do a booming business especially in the high veld

winter since electrification of townships in Soweto has not kept pace with housing.

About 70 recognized Christian denominations exist in

Soweto, where scattered throughout are 241 completed church

buildings and an estimated 94,000 congregants. Many in-

dependent churches conduct worship in various members homes

(cf. West 1975), some people attend no church, and others

are active only on church rolls, not personally; so reli-

gious observance is difficult to gauge with statistics.

Some of Soweto's roads and streets are tarred and many are not. In the winter, the smog over the township

(aggravated by the fact that many people must use wood and coal) hangs like a pall, and in the rain, streets flood when stormwater drains cannot cope with the runoff from a summer downpour. Sports fields are usually simply open spots, as is a park. Streets twist and wind and house numbers are so erratically arranged in some neighborhoods as to be a source of confusion to even the most frequent visitor. It is not surprising that residents nearly always give directions which use landmarks to reach a given place. s

73

It is highly probable that there is no logical way of locating

a house with just an address. At all times one carries the "stand directory" which 1 i sts, numbers, and maps the various plots of land.

Black Durban: The Township

Outside Durban, South Africa's second largest city, lies

Kwa Mashu township, where about 125,000 Africans live. The *

remainder of Durban's total African population of about

200,000 (Edelstein 1972:53) live in other townships such as Umlazi, south of Durban. "Whi te" Durban numbers around 1 80,000

persons. Kwa Mashu is situated some 10 miles northwest of

Durban amid rolling hills.

Like Soweto, Kwa Mashu provides its residents with a place to eat some of their meals, sleep, and rear their children. The weekends are busy and bustling and are the time for weddings, funerals, stokf el , and other voluntary association meetings, as well as sports events. It also has no industries within its borders. Kwa Mashu is tied to

White Durban by its rail line and by bus service, as well as second-class taxis which move along their regular routes.

Kwa Mashu 's workers in great numbers use mainly these means of transport to reach their daily jobs. As at Soweto, a personal motor car is rare, since most Kwa Mashu residents work at lowly-paid unskilled jobs in the "White" areas.

Many live below the austerely calculated Poverty Datum Line referred to earlier. Some residents of Black Durban work in

Kwa Mashu itself in occupations similar to those already described for Soweto. 74

Although Kwa Mashu is composed of a number of

neighborhood units, each with a Zulu name, residents refer

to these parts of their "location" simply as unit "K" or

"B" or "D." Each neighborhood unit usually contains

several types of housingJ Many of the altered or privately-

built homes that exist stand amid the standard unaltered red

brick municipal four-room houses, two-room detached or semi-

detached houses, or four-room semi-detached houses.

Kwa Mashu is a more recently constructed and occupied

township than Soweto. It was proclaimed a "location and

native village" on May 16, 1961. Another contrast is that

Kwa Mashu's residents are predominantly Zulu. Unlike Soweto

it is not officially a multi-ethnic township; hence ethnic grouping has not been imposed in the spheres of education, assignment to housing, or election to Urban Bantu Council membership. The residents of Kwa Mashu are considered citizens of their "Homeland," and in most cases that is

Kwa Zulu. As mentioned previously, Kwa Mashu has been declared a part of this adjoining "Homeland," but at the time of this study there were few noticeable changes in the daily lives of the people. Nor did the administrators in the municipal offices have a clear idea of how this central- government legislated change would affect the township.

One exception is Unit 12 which contains exclusively four-room detached dwellings of brick. 75

Kwa Mashu has its own small general dealer shops, a

supermarket, butcheries, hairdressers, petrol stations,

scrapyards, schools, creches, community halls, and provision for some health services. Health care is provided by a

Polyclinic (operated and overseen by the Natal Provincial

Administration) and by various city-operated health clinics. Medical cases requiring further or more extensive care are

usually treated at McCord Zulu Hospital in Durban. There

is a sports stadium at Kwa Mashu, and sports fields, play

lots, churches, and church sites are scattered throughout the township.

Electricity is not available to even a majority of the neighborhood units, so that coal cooking stoves and kerosene lighting or ref rigeration are used in many homes. In the subtropical heat of Durban's summer these coal stoves make the small standard municipal houses into ovens, and some residents choose to cook over kerosene stoves instead.

As at Soweto, residents wishing to purchase new clothing, furniture, appliances, household goods, automobiles, and

the like must do so in the "White" center city's shopping facilities.

Kwa Mashu also has its Urban Bantu Council with advisory powers similar to those at Soweto. At Kwa Mashu

one woman has been elected to a seat on this Council.

Kwa Mashu differs from Soweto, its trend-setting upland counterpart, in its: (1) smaller size; (2) greater ethnic homogeneity; (3) relatively more recent construction 76

and occupation; and (4) somewhat more conservative approach to fad, fashion, and women's use of cigarettes and alcohol in public. Despite these differences, Kwa Mashu's Black South African residents share and express, albeit on a smaller scale, the culture of inequality described in the following pages. PART II CHAPTER FIVE

THE SOCIAL MOSAIC: INTRODUCTION

The second part of this study explores the social mosaic of urban Black South Africans and their township-based cul-

ture of inequality. Their culture of inequality underlies each of the following chapters in such a way that whenever criteria of social evaluation are employed, they are those of residents and not those imposed by a researcher,^ Most often criteria of social evaluation are used by residents in various combinations. Their application by residents is flexible and elastic according to whether a relationship

has been most recently characterized by feud or friendship,

animosity or amity; and according to how generally well-

known or well-liked an individual is within the society. It is also important, for example, to consider whether a person has a reservoir of unspent social capital.

Scutt 1 i ng- -t he plans and strategies by which such social capital can be accumulated (or destroyed)-- is best

Some researchers have investigated inequality by fitting their data to predetermined molds. The natural history method (Arensberg and Kimball 1965:4-5, 218), avoids this pitfall which can lead to the imposition of one's categories a priori onto another culture. Studying African elites in Salisbury, Rhodesia, Kileff states, for example, that_"It was never precisely determined if the elite thus distinguished conformed to what other urban Africans think of as an elite..." (1975:81).

78 -

79

a revealed in on-going activities (such as vol untary a s soc i

tions), specific situations (such as weddings), and leisure- time social interaction (drinking, visiting, parties).

Scuttling involves manipulating the prestige-potential of any situation or series of events to one's own advantage or to a desired end. And it involves the behavior and actions, subject to evaluation, which put it into operation.

Hence, in the pages which follow, we will examine the components of the culture of inequality and see how it is put into play through what is here referred to as scuttling.

In the process, through focusing on some of the "trend- setters," the social elite, we will learn more about the social mosaic of the townships.

People comprise the social mosaic, and their cumulative activities, attitudes, and assessments give the mosaic its multi-faceted and distinctive character. Hence, before pro- ceeding to examine the social mosaic through various situations and events, let us meet some of the people with whom we will be renewing our acquaintance from time to time in the remainder of the present study.

The People

The main daily activities comprising the weekday routine for most of the respondent sample, including those whose lives we will describe in more detail, are centered around their respective jobs. What may be surprising to the reader is not the various activities themselves, but 80

rather how much time is found within this framework for visiting and keeping in contact with those friends closest to a particular person or couple. As later analyses of social networks will show, males tend to associate more frequently with other male friends, and females with other female friends. However, this is by no means a hard and fast rule, and as we shall see, many weekend activities, as well as informal "happenings" can, and often do, involve members of both sexes.

Mr. and Mrs. Segone

If you want to know about the townships just inquire from someone whose daily work involves moving around the various townships within the Soweto complex, and around other nearby townships on the Rand. For example, a couple like Mr. and Mrs. Segone. Thapelo and Thandie (as they are known to their friends) are fairly typical of highly visible township residents who remain in the Black commun- ities to carry out the bulk of their daily work. Mr. Segone was, at the time of this study, a sales and marketing representative who was also responsible for supervision of an African staff. He was employed by an American-based firm.

His wife, Thandie, a triple-qualified nursing sister was employed at a local health clinic as a radiologist. Their schedule, their meals, their shopping, their visiting, and their holidays were planned around the demands of their respective jobs. Since their three children have been away at boarding school since they were very young. 81

Mrs. Segone has been able to continue working as she wishes to do. As she often says, "I can't understand how these illiterate women can sit in their houses or on the yard the whole day--they never seem to get bored. They are not bothered by the fact that there is much that needs to be done--even if you haven't got much money, you can still keep a tidy house and look well after your children, cook for your husband properly, and offer anyone who calls on you some tea at least."

The everyday routine of Mr. and Mrs. Segone begins early, when in winter it is still dark and cold outside.

Their comfortable privately-built home, however, is soon warm since they have electric heaters strategically placed to supplement a recently- installed anthracite-burning stove set into their living-room fireplace niche. Their house is a large one, so that the additional warmth is welcome.

Mrs. Segone arises at about 5:30 A.M., in order to prepare breakfast and tea for her husband and herself, have a hot tub-bath, and put on her uniform and cape before leaving in order to be at the clinic by 7:45 A.M. She also likes to use any extra-time before work to tidy up her immaculate house or do some laundry which can be hung out to dry while she is away. The Segones usually eat their morning meal together, and while she clears the table and stacks the dishes, Mr. Segone will have his shower, dress in a dark business suit, and collect his account books. His firm provides him with a car, and although Mrs. Segone is a 82

competent driver, she prefers to leave their family car in the locked garage and be dropped at the clinic by her husband before he begins making his daily calls.

Although they could afford a domestic helper, Mrs.

Segone prefers to do her own work since she is "very particu- lar." For chores such as polishing the silver or washing floors, she sometimes calls on a neighbor's child who is very fond of being at the Segone's home. Quite often after school the neighbor child can be found visiting or calling to see what she can do to help.

Mr. Segone's days are long, but he is able more or less to set his own itinerary. Usually at lunchtime he can be found at a friend's shop chatting and having a bite to eat.

On occasion he will call at home during the day or at least drive by their home to see that everything is in order, since Soweto's crime and vandalism rate is most familiar to its residents. At around 4:30 P.M. he stops at the clinic where his wife waits for him to drive her home, and usually he returns to make additional calls at the various shops.

Friday evenings being collection time are especially busy.

On these evenings, he may not return to have his dinner until as late as 9:00 P.M. Mrs. Segone awaits his return to dine with him having usually prepared a heavy meal of at least one meat, two vegetables, potatoes or rice, two salads, and dessert. This sort of nightly meal was a part of their regular routine. Some of his Saturday mornings are taken up with business, but others are free enough 83

to allow him to drive to town with his wife, where they buy provisions for the week at a large supermarket chain store, or shop for household items at a favorite furniture store from which they have furnished nearly their entire home.

Unless they travel at least a day by car, they cannot visit their children, and consequently they do this in- frequently. School holidays in July and at Christmas pro- vide a time when their children can visit them. However, during July of this field research period, their children had made their own plans, written their parents for money, and did not come to Soweto. Both Mr. and Mrs. Segone say that their children are "different people, you wouldn't know them, when they are here in Soweto." Since they are now young adults, their parents allow them to go their own way.

Mrs. Segone is often heard to remark, only half in jest, that, "The children only write when they need money!"

Naturally, the Segone children have their own friends at their respective schools and sometimes visit with these friends over school holidays. However, all the Segone children were at home for Christmas in 1973, and at that time brought a number of their friends with them.

The weekends are the peak period of activity for most

Soweto residents, and the Segones are no exception. If there is a wedding or a funeral they feel they must attend, they usually do so on Saturday afternoon and return home by about 5:00 P.M. Mrs. Segone rises early on Sunday morning to attend the first church service, while her husband remains 84

at home. By 8:00 A.M. Mrs. Segone has returned home and wakes

her husband since by her standards it is already late. The

remainder of her day is spent cooking, tending to the hospi-

tality of guests who may drop by, reading the newspapers,

listening to the stereo, and cleaning her house thoroughly.

This latter is no small matter since she has so far refused

her husband's urgings to purchase an electric floor polisher.

Mr. Segone may tend to the garden, but always reads two

Sunday newspapers which they regularly purchase at a nearby

shop, or he may go out with friends. If his wife must go

out to attend a club meeting, or for some other reason, he

will drop her and then call on his friends until he departs

to fetch her at an appointed time.

They call their house "a house built on weekends."

This does not mean that they did the actual construction

themselves, but that the weekends were the only time avail-

able for supervision of workmen. Mr. Segone attends to

house maintenance, and with the assistance of my husband,

installed the new heating stove. Obtaining competent and

diligent workmen is a source of constant complaint among

people like the Segones who have thus far spent more than

ten years completing their three-bedroom house. Workmen who

have achieved a word-of-mouth reputation for doing consi stent quality work at reasonable prices for their fellow Africans are eagerly sought and recommended from friend to friend.

Couples like the Segones pass their holidays by

travelling to Botswana, Lesotho, or Swaziland; or by .

85

remaining at home in Soweto carrying out or planning the completion of their decor, attending some social events or meetings, or visiting friends. They are exceptional in the fact that Mr. Segone never indulges in alcohol, but never- theless keeps a bar supply on hand for friends who may stop by. This fact, in addition to the initially abrasive quality of Mrs. Segone's personality, tends to limit their participa- tion in the top "socialite set." Mr. Segone is at home more frequently than some of the other men we will meet, and is fond of reading novels and listening to his extensive and frequently augmented jazz record collection. However, both are well-known in the township and are called upon from time to time for their organizational abilities to assist in arranging various occasions such as dramatic performances, musical evenings, and the like. They also lend from their extensive supply of dishes, cutlery, and table linens to people who approach them with wedding plans, funeral prepara- tions, or other events at which a large attendance is expected

Miss Velel o

In contrast to the Segone family sketched above. Miss

Mandisa Velelo leads a rather different life. She, too,

however, centers her schedule on her job in advertising for

a large international firm, but as a single female with a

full-time live-in domestic helper she has more free time

which she lavishes on any interesting activity, persons, or

events that she can create or that come her way. Her firm 86

also supplies her with a car which remains with her through the weekends. She does not own an additional vehicle.

Despite the fact that it has been said that "very few

African women may be considered elite in their own right"

(Jacobson 1968:124), Miss Velelo is an exception. A strik- ing woman with a vibrant personality, flashing eyes, and an endless supply of lively conversation on nearly any topic, she has two young adult children both away at school. Like

Mrs. Segone, she allows them freedom in their movements.

Miss Velelo always says that she finds women who only talk about their children or church boring companions.

Miss Velelo entertains and goes out often, while still usually managing to successfully pass the university corres- pondence courses in which she is enrolled. Unlike Mrs.

Segone, she is not at church every Sunday. At the time of this research, she was spending two evenings each week teach- ing literacy classes at a local school. She is nearly always photographed at any social event she attends, and is constantly seen with the "right people" at numerous large parties, premieres, or arts festivals.

Her home, an altered municipal house, has more conveniences than her domestic helper had traditionally been accustomed to. The same would apply to many domestic helpers in homes. Black or White, in South Africa. In having her house altered. Miss Velelo added new vinyl-tile flooring in a deep brown, resembling the design of dark slate. In her kitchen, she had added a series of large ceramic tiles behind her sink and countertop surfaces. Kitchen curtains of colorful fabric and an arrangement of dried flowers complemented the more practical features such as an electric stove and a large refrigerator. The same large ceramic tiles had been installed in her bathroom off the interior hallway. In the hallway she has placed a lovely old wooden sideboard which serves as a liquor cabinet and provides additional storage space. Her home is nearly complete with the exception of several outside rooms separate from the rear of the house and next to the garage. When she cooks on her electric stove, she handles this aspect of her domestic chores herself, only on occasion assisted by her helper.

But the wardrobe necessary for an active social life and her job is given careful attention by her helper who occupies the childrens' bedroom when they are not at home. When her helper found a "boyfriend" at Soweto, Miss Velelo went with her to obtain a supply of birth-control pills and carefully instructed her in the importance of their regular use.

Her household decor reflects her interest in African art and sculpture, and is a unique blending of African traditional objects, works by modern African artists or sculptors, and simple contemporary design in furnishings.

In her living room some of her magazines and books are with- in easy reach contained in grass basketry on the floor. She is often asked by her friends to assist them in choosing various prints or other art objects by Africans which they intend using in their own homes or to advise them in related .

88

matters. Her stereo occupies a place of honor on a living room bookcase, and her collection of records reflects current township music, in addition to a number of records by over- seas Black and White singers and musicians. Soul music and the sounds of the inimitable Nina Simone often fill the house.

People, too, frequently fill her house simply by the coincidence of their dropping by on the same day or evening.

They know that they will be warmly welcomed, offered drinks if the liquor cabinet is stocked as it usually is, and they generally proceed to dance, converse, and party late into the night. These "happenings" are fairly typical when she is found at home. In a similar fashion she drops in on her friends, often accompanied by other friends, and another evening's "happening" is under way. Her friends include a number of medical doctors and their wives, journalists, artists, and some of the businesspeople who are also of high soc i al stand i ng

She takes her job seriously and works at it in the same quick and energetic way that she spends her leisure time with friends. She hopes to better her occupational standing by additional education and, at the time of the research, was saving for a trip abroad (which she has subsequently

made) .

She abhors the double standard that still applies to the behavior of men and women, as she revealed in a spirited discussion with one of her married female friends on a late 89

summer afternoon. As we sat chatting in Miss Velelo's cozy bedroom, the conversation turned to the dethroning of a

Miss America or a Miss World which had been widely reported in the press. Her friend had just pointed out that, "After all, such a woman must be exemplary in her behavior, and from press reports she had a good number of boyfriends at once, and was seen in public dressed in quite daring attire.

Besides she was openly living with some man, was it Peter

Revson?" To this, Mandisa shot back immediately, "So what? Men do it all the time, they can do as they like. Why should we confound ourselves with lies that fool no one, like some of our women do? Smoking only in their bedroom or bathrooms when their husbands aren't at home, drinking and seeing their boyfriends behind everyone's back...." Since both Mandisa and her married friend smoke and drink in public, the discussion was one which referred to more broadly acceptable standards, and not to their personal behavior.

Both are members of the social elite, and neither is censured for her public smoking or drinking. It was pri- marily the continuing sexual double standard which was at the crux of the discussion, and the two debated the ques- tion of why it should be that in African society generally a woman had to do what her husband said, while he could do as he liked.

Miss Velelo is also interested in the Black Conciousness movement. Her personal library, her dress, and her con- versation express this interest. Poetry and literature by 90

Black authors are also a favorite topic of conversation, almost as popular as politics, among Mandisa and her friends.

African liberation movements in other parts of Africa, customs and traditions, arts and crafts in other African countries are the theme of conversations between Mandisa and another of her close friends who had recently visited Malawi on holiday. Holiday travels often take Miss Velelo to the three independent African territories mentioned earlier.

Business sometimes takes her to Durban; and a high point of her employment career was when she was asked, shortly before my departure, to speak at a marketing convention held at one of the large hotels in the center of Johannesburg. As she said at the time, "I'll probably be the only woman and maybe the only Black there--I must really work out a thoroughgoing well -organized presentation."

Mr . and Mr s . Pula

Businesspeople in Soweto, possibly to a greater extent than even those in other occupations, must schedule their lives by their occupation. Their peak sales periods are from Friday evening through the weekend when people enter- tain at the various festivities mentioned earlier, when the workers paid on a weekly basis eat their best meals, and when nearly everyone is likely to need some item or other. Hence on the weekends, it is especially difficult for people like Mr. and Mrs. Pula to participate in ex- tensive social activities such as attending voluntary association meetings, weddings, or funerals, since these . 91

usually occur on Saturdays. As we shall see later, their

schedule does not preclude such activities, however. It

is simply that they have the means, as well as the desire,

to be more often patrons of various organizations or worthy causes, than to be active workers or local office holders

in such organizations. As Mrs. Pula put it, referring to one charity organization, "I'm like their Godmother. They

expect me to help in self-improvement and fund-raising.

Unfortunately, our current and on-going problem is to find

sponsors for charity events."

Both Lefifi and Thembie Pula are active in running and managing their large supermarket situated on a main road near a large intersection. They have a domestic staff to attend to many of the chores that would normally fall to

Mrs. Pula, and these helpers can also look after the younger children and the Pula's privately-built home, one of Soweto's largest, most elaborate, and expensive. Its carpeted living room looks as if it might easily contain the total floor space of a standard municipal house. The music and bar entertainment center, just off the living room, comprises another area nearly the size of one room of a municipal house.

Upon entering the foyer, the visitor is visually refreshed by the bright green of plants standing in shining metal pi anters

Mr. Pula, a heavy-set man, is nearly always attired in a suit of latest "mod" fashion complete with a wide tie.

His wife is quiet, almost shy in her manner, and even as 92

she rushes to attend to shop customers, she is poised and

graceful in her movements. Her quiet speech provides a contrast to her husband whose resonant voice befits his size.

When at the shop, Mrs. Pula is usually attired in a fresh

neat cotton or polyester street dress. At fashionable

cl a s s i 1 events, she usually wears elegant ca 1 y cut attire such

as a floor-length dress with matching collared jacket.

Mr. Pula's reputation as a "high roller," a gambler

and horse race fan who places sizeable bets, is widespread.

The Pulas are not typical of Soweto businesspeople, since most of these latter operate the smaller shops which net

them a 1 ivi ng very much less sumptuous than the Pulas. It would be difficult to describe adequately their highly

variable round of activities since these are closely tied

to the exigencies of business dealings and constantly chang-

ing conditions. There are two family automobiles, as well as a large truck that is used for business purposes. Their days are generally long, and when they have the opportunity

to relax, they are sometimes joined by another couple, Mr.

Mpanza and his companion, who live nearby. Both Mr. Pula and Mr. Mpanza occupy seats on the Urban Bantu Council at

Soweto, and at the monthly meetings are usually found speak-

ing on the same side of a given issue under debate. Mr.

Mpanza lives with a charming and attractive young teacher, who shares many of his academic and intellectual interests.

Mrs. Pula's widespread reputation as a charity worker

stems in part from a highly publicized Debutante's Ball which she was instrumental in arranging and organizing. The young teacher who lives with Mr. Mpanza sometimes partici- pates with Mrs. Pula in some of the charity endeavors. As

Mrs. Pula described the Debutante's Ball, she also reflected her conception of some of the ways in which the community could benefit. The girls who were to be the debutantes

"had to be young girls, usually under 20 years of age, who haven't had a 'fall' [gotten pregnant]. Our main aims were to assure this, assure that they were unmarried, and present them to the community as exemplary, emphasizing the impor- tance of being young and well-behaved." The Debutante's

Ball was a black-tie affair with long gowns the order of the evening for the women. Sponsored by a cosmetic firm with which the Pulas do business, the committee at Soweto handled the sale of tickets to those who are, as Mrs. Pula remarked, "The elite of the community: the doctors; teachers; businesspeople; social workers; nurses; lawyers; and the like." "And," she continued, "we had a doorkeeper for gate crashers." Proceeds from this Ball were divided among three different charities. Mrs. Pula frequently appears in her long gown with a group of the young debutantes in newspaper advertisements for the sponsoring cosmetic firm. The debs wore white dresses, gloves, white crowns, and carried bouquets.

Thembie Pula is also quite active in her church and she travels to other South African cities representing her church on various occasions. She tries to be instrumental 94

in interesting others in charity work. For example, she

recalled for me one occasion when she convened a meeting

"here at home to explain the idea of working for charity."

An analysis of the committee membership of one of the charity groups in which she is influential, shows that two members are medical doctors' wives (one a nurse, one a

businesswoman), two others are businesspeople, one is a

social worker, and one is a teacher. Mrs. Pula's interests

include charity work to provide creches, assist the mentally retarded, the crippled, or those with tuberculosis.

The Pulas are so successful by community standards and so visible that their very name has become synonymous with the elite of the community. They are pace-setters, standard- bearers, and exemplars in prestige, patronage, and charity work at Soweto. They have access to other important people on whom they can call for assistance. Such assistance can be actual labor, donations, or the purchase of tickets to a special sparkling event. "Top people like the Pulas" became almost a refrain during the field research.

Dr. and Mrs. Dube

As we shall see in later chapters, the medical doctors are nearly always considered social elite, but they occupy rather different positions and follow rather different home lives. The man in the street sees the medical doctors as a category of "people at the top," but is not usually in a position to notice some of the differences referred to above.

Let us take the case of Dr. and Mrs. Shika Dube. Their 95

privately built home, the scene of many of the fashionable

Soweto parties, is large and complete down to its generous

American-style kitchen with built-in cupboards. Outside is a huge double garage. Kosi Dube is one of Soweto's leading

hostesses, and the Dubes entertain frequently. These

parties are usually wel 1 - pu bl i c i z ed with pictures of special guests appearing afterward in the township social sections of various newspapers.

Mrs. Dube is a trained nurse, and has no children by her present marriage. She assists her husband at his con-

sulting rooms which are located in a d i stant area of Soweto.

With her reputation as a gracious and "swinging" hostess, and her travel abroad, she is a real asset to her husband,

Shika, who is not especially well-liked by some of the other medical doctors and others of high social standing. Kosi, a tall, si ender, attract! ve woman whose cosmetics are nearly always impeccably applied, wears her personal clothing or her nurse's uniform with a dignity and poise befitting a fashion model. She is a forceful but cool woman, active in a number of charitable organizations. A skilled conver- sationalist, she makes her guests feel at home and sees that they are attended to, while still enjoying herself.

The fact that the Dubes have domestic help and a man to tend to their garden frees more time for outside charity work and the planning of large social evenings.

Both Dr. and Mrs. Dube spend most of their working hours attending to patients at the consulting rooms, and 96

each one uses a personal car in order to come and go as is necessary to meet the daily obligations of their work.

With her many contacts in widely ranging areas of expertise,

Kosi Dube is in an ideal position, similar to that of Mrs.

Pula, to utilize these contacts in aid of the various char-

ity fund-raising efforts in which she engages. Of the several charity groups in which she is a member, she is active in committee work and uses her organizational skills to the fullest, but does not always manage to attend formal meetings. However, through informal channels, she keeps herself up to date with what is being done or what needs to be done. Some of her Saturday afternoons are spent driving directly from one meeting to the next if two happen to fall on the same day, or overlap in time.

Her interests also encompass theater, drama, poetry, and music. She appears from time to time in the press with a singer or other entertainer from the arts set. She also is shown in press photographs in which, with a small group of elite women, she is presenting a check to a representative of a particular charity. Young, attractive, stylishly-dressed, a nurse in her own right, skilled in social graces, and active in charity work, she epitomizes the successful highly visible doctor's wife who auguments her husband's standing.

Dr. and Mrs. Kumalo

By way of contrast, let us meet Dr. and Mrs. Kumalo.

Although she is not a trained nurse, Nana Kumalo assists . 97

her husband in his consulting rooms on a part-time basis as a receptionist and general aide. At the time of the research the Kumalos had one small child and subsequently

Mrs. Kumalo gave birth to another child. Both Dr. and

Mrs. Kumalo are in their early thirties and are just getting a start. Their present home is an extensively altered four- room municipal house which they have filled with fashionable contemporary furnishings of fine quality. But it is too

small, they say, for their needs. Their personal car is usually parked inside their fenced yard on the driveway in front of their garage if they are not at home. However,

since Nana's interests focus primarily on her home and her young children, she will sometimes be at home even when her

husband has taken their car to return to his nearby con-

sulting rooms

Dr. Themba Kumalo is a gregarious and fashion-conscious young professional, who enjoys night life, drinking, and moving around. Even when Nana accompanies him to parties,

she is quiet and reserved and expresses a concern that they arrive home early in order to personally check on the children. He will drive her home, and sometimes will remain there and not return to the party. This is a matter of some concern to several friends who feel that, by restraining

her husband, she will precipitate marital difficulties.

This does not mean, however, that she, too, is not interested

in stylish apparel, or does not enjoy a party occasonally.

She is a small woman, always smartly dressed, often in 98

trouser suits, who looks even younger than her years. Her health is not of the best, and this may be somewhat of a factor in her home and family orientation relative to Mrs.

Pula and Mrs. Dube. Her charity work is limited to one organization in which she held an office at the time of the research. However, on numerous occasions, she could not attend due to health reasons and sent an apology. Finally, as storm clouds brewed within the organization, she with- drew by neither attending nor sending apologies.^

Mrs. Kumalo participates in a stokf el (a sort of re- volving credit ring) with three other women. Their group plays with individual contributions of about $75.00 per week. So that for the week when she receives all the pro- ceeds from the other members, as they do in their turn, she has a lump sum of $225.00. This group of women see each other in the course of daily activities or visit from time to time. Hence, it is interesting to note that they have modified the more standard sto kf el pattern in such a way that there is no gathering of the group, or serving of refreshments to outsiders, for additional profit. The money is simply dropped off by each member at the same member's house each week to be collected by the person

This latter method of withdrawing from participation by simply dropping out is frequent in numerous organizations. Dropping out in this way, may be due either to various pres- sures from other members, or simply to an individual's own decision. However, as we will see in Chapter Eight, direct confrontation over problems within an organization is not a desirable way to exit. Mrs. Kumalo withdrew in a way that would be least likely to cause such confrontation. Formal 99

who is to receive the proceeds of that week. The money is

the object of the game here, and not the more usual social

gathering and profit-making through the sale of food or

drink that accompanies the average stokfel .

Mrs. Kumalo has no regular domestic helper, although

there is a woman who frequently, but irregularly, stops by

to inquire if she can do family laundry and ironing or other cleaning such as floors. Immediately before my departure, a large annual gathering of medical doctors was

scheduled and the 1974 venue was the Kumalo home. This professional group includes medical doctors from all around the Reef, and the day's activities, both discussion as well as entertainment, are customarily the financial and organizational responsibility of the host and hostess. This meant that Mrs. Kumalo was faced with entertaining some

100 people with food and drink of a high standard, planning and executing the day's activities for the wives, and arranging a speaker for the women. All this is enough to strike terror in the heart of any homemaker, especially one with a small house, and Nana was no exception. She began early to consult with friends for advice and planning.

However, I left Soweto before the actual event occurred.

Dr. and Mrs. Mafoko

To complete the picture of medical doctors and their spouses, the case of Dr. and Mrs. Mafoko will serve as

resignation is not common in the case of someone who wants to leave an office or an organization. Mrs. Kumalo took what, in my experience, was the most common action in order to withdraw. illustrative. Dr. Mafoko, trained in Europe, is married to a woman somewhat younger than he. Their only child is of

pre-school age and attends a creche. Vusi Mafoko who

(according to reports) shocked a number of people on his return from abroad with his new-found language of invective

is a thoughtful and rapi er-wi tted man. He can destroy an opponent in a discussion simply by waiting until everyone

has had his or her heated say, and then quietly summing up

both sides in such a way as to point out how simplistic

is the side with which he disagrees. He is also a frank and unconventional person who is impatient with people or

ideas he considers of no consequence. But part of his popularity stems from his colorful language, his quick temper, his outspoken views, and his abilities at informal debate. He is regarded by many as a person whom they would be honored to have attend or speak on any occasion because

he is cosmopolitan and sophisticated. His knowledge of foreign cuisine, not only that of the country in which he did his training, is formidable. He can also be a loud,

boisterous, but thoroughly refreshing party person. He makes the weekend rounds with a group of friends, or attends parties with his wife, Mabana. He has a wide circl of friends, and even with his practice, can steal enough time for a drink or a chat, lunch at home, or a daytime visit to a friend's place for lunch. On his weekly after-

noon off, the Mafoko house gradually fills with other doctors, or business friends who either go off to play golf or to relax in other ways. To a greater extent than Mrs. Kumalo, Mrs. Mafoko is an independent agent. Earlier she had been employed in

Johannesburg at a bookshop, but found the job so boring that she left it. She is currently enrolled in correspon- dence courses, but she herself readily admits that parties and fun get in the way of completing her university studies.

She says it is simply difficult to get motivated, to write required papers, and the like. Mabana, who says that she wants to find a suitable job, but has not yet been success- ful, moves around more less as she likes during the day with her friends who have cars and whose schedules allow them a fair amount of latitude (like Miss Mokoena, whom we will meet next). Mrs. Mafoko enjoys and looks forward to the numerous social activities, both impromptu and planned, which fill the weekends. She talks, drinks, dances, and has a "swinging" time until the early morning.

She is not yet 30, and she is a gentle, warm, considerate person who makes friends easily and mixes with the other social elite without strain. She shares in some of the shebeen-hopping to be described in a later chapter and enjoys being with people, but is at the same time a private person who also uses her time alone to read the newspapers and keep abreast of current events as they are reported in the press or on the radio. Since elaborate daily meals are not of special concern to either husband or wife, her cooking duties are relatively light. Mabana carries out the domestic chores, but does not place the emphasis on them that, for example, Mrs. Segone does. The Mafoko's pattern of living is more relaxed on this score, but naturally hospitaility will be extended a visitor or friend, and if there is no liquor in the house, it will be obtained from a nearby shebeen. Baking, elaborate cooking, and ex- tensive polishing are not a part of Mabana's daily activities.

Sometimes the laundry and/or ironing are done by a woman who comes by to see if there is work whereby she can earn a small amount of money. However, she comes at will, and in many cases, a day or two later than needed. In such cases, there is no work for her.

Dr. and Mrs. Mafoko occupy an altered house furnished with some of the things her mother (who also lives at

Soweto) no longer needed. Work progresses, but slowly, on the house. This is due not only to fiscal caution, but to the already-mentioned problem of finding workmen who appear reguarly and who do good quality work. She complained on several occasions about the workmen with whom they had arranged the addition of a bathroom inside the house.

Unfinished at the time of my departure, the bathroom waited, while excuse followed after excuse from the workman in charge. Finally one day, when he reported that he had been bewitched and had had to attend several diviners and herbalists, Mabana and Vusi decided that this was a hope- less situation and began the long process of finding a replacement. In the meanwhile their new burnt-orange bathtub stood, partially plastered in place, and the sink was usable, but the inconvenience was still considerable.

The lovely built-in closets in their bedroom are complete, and in the kitchen the cabinets and countertops have been installed. On the whole Vusi and Mabana are patient because they have little choice, but at the same time, they are less home-oriented than the first couple, the Segones.

Dr. and Mrs. Mafoko take their precocious young child on various outings together, now that they have ac- quired a new car. Their old one was not really reliable enough for travel over any distance, but now they can take their child to see the airplanes at the airport, to watch the skaters at the ice rink in the center of Johannesburg, or take the elevator to the top of the Carleton Center with its view of Johannesburg and environs. The new car enables them to holiday outside the Republic over long weekends going where the crowd is going--whether to Botswana,

Lesotho, or Swaziland.

Dr. Mafoko is a jazz buff, and used, more often than now, to play the that stands in the second bedroom.

If Vusi and Mabana are at a party, and he feels tired or has imbibed sufficiently to need a nap, he has the enviable ability to simply find a suitable spot, sometimes in the midst of the gathering, and fall asleep in a chair or stretch out on a bench for a brief sleep. Usually, Mabana is still dancing and enjoying the festivities. One of her favorite items of wearing apparel is a pale blue denim

trouser suit with embroidered and appliqued patterns in t

the latest fashion. Her husband detests wearing a tie and whenever he can he will dress casually. However, when the

occasion demands, he, too, appears in the 1 atest "mod" su i with coordinated shirt, tie, and shoes. Both Vusi and

Mabana are spontaneous and congenial, popular, and generally highly regarded as members of the social elite.

Their activities in aid of charity have come to a nearly complete halt after an unfortunate confrontation in an educational and cultural organization designed by its

African founders to provide scholarship funds for needy children. Serving as an office-bearer in this group. Dr.

Mafoko (and another officer) found that two other officers had purchased a vehicle, ostensibly for the use of the organization, without consulting the executive committee or following other normal constitutional procedures. As usual in such matters, it is impossible to sort out after the fact what actually occurred, but this experience made

Dr. Mafoko withdraw from participation and membership.

Mabana feels that she has been, on occasion, maligned for her efforts at aiding the needy. She claims that "The ordinary people who need help seem to resent us, as

'doctors' wi i ves ' , try ng to assist or to organize with them or on their behalf." So at present she is maintaining a low profile in this regard.

Miss Mokoena

Meeting Miss Nobantu Mokoena is an experience one does not easily forget. I met her at Mabana's when Nobantu dropped in at the Mafoko's one afternoon to announce that the next evening she felt like having a get-together. See- ing me, she greeted me warmly and we began chatting as if we were old acquaintances. It was only when Nobantu asked what liquor and what brand I preferred for the get-together,

that Mabana realized that Nobantu and I were meeting for the first time.

Miss Mokoena is another exception to the general idea that few African women can be considered elite in their own right. Nobantu has her own house, just as Miss Velelo does.

It, too, is a four-room dwelling, undergoing alteration.

But, as Nobantu constantly complains, the work is going slowly. She as yet has not completed electrification; although the wiring has been put in, the job has yet to be completed. Her lighting is by kerosene lamps, she currently uses a coal stove, and a paraffin refrigerator. The house exterior has been plastered, and the modern leather-like living-room suite fills most of the small room in which it stands with the stereo. Miss Mokoena occupies one bedroom and her small child occupies the other. Her bathroom is complete except for hot water. After an attempted robbery she had a high fence of about eight feet installed around the yard. The gate in this fence must be open before she drives her car in and upon retiring the gate is locked until morning. She plans to add an electric stove and refrigerator as soon as the electrification is completed, and then the interior plaster can be completed, paint y

applied, and some of her souvenirs from her time spent abroad can be hung in already-selected places on the walls.

Although Miss Mokoena is a qualified nurse with additional training obtained abroad, she is a skill ed businesswoman. In private businesses of various sorts she makes her living. Her late-model private car is a neces- sity that allows her to look after her various business

interests, and at the same time gives her the capability to move around calling on friends.

Since she, like Miss Velelo, is a single woman, she is exceptional in her own society. Naturally, this makes

s - for a good deal of curiosity which she r esent -espec i a 1 1 from nearby neighbors who can watch comings and goings at her home with some ease because the high fence does not provide privacy. Unlike Miss Velelo, who does not wish to marry but to maintain her freedom. Miss Mokoena would like

to find a man to marry. "Oh, not just anyone , but someone respected who has a good position and who is responsible.

For example, my sister married a businessman and now you should see her house in which she does nothing but what

she wants all day long. No cares, no worries, no nosy neighbors to bother her--she is set." But until someone comes along. Miss Mokoena is not spending her time sulking

in her home. She is a spirited and independent person who dotes on her child, and is planning to send him to

school outside the Republic as soon as possible. 107

She is an articulate person who can stand back and look at herself, her society, and the outside world with a critical eye. But still she intends having a good time until her man comes along. She is included in the reciprocities that characterize the elite social circles, and she often entertains both formally and informally in her home. She attends the parties given by the "right people" and often provides innovative ideas for weekend activities outside Soweto. These are always welcome, and with her personality and inventiveness she is readily accepted into these circles.

Her domestic helper had just returned from a vacation at about the time I was departing from Soweto. Hence,

Nobantu's daily activities, which are anything but regular or routine due to the demands of her business interests, changed drastically. Prior to the return of her domestic helper, I would find Nobantu on a Saturday afternoon having removed every piece of furniture from her house, and clean- ing it from topto bottom. The furniture itself was treated to a thorough weekly dusting with Pledge, floors were swept and washed down, rugs beaten, and the yard tended. Some- times there were school-age children who could be recruited to assist, but sometimes not. However, by evening, she was ready for whatever activities were to take place.

Usually, there were several parties that could be attended if she or her friends were remaining at Soweto for the weekend. If no especially interesting event was available. I ua

one could always shebeen-hop with a group of friends, often married couples. Nobantu was particularly fond of the em- bassy parties and the various celebrations, such as the

July 4th occasion at the American Embassy. Like many of the other persons we have met in this section. Miss Mokoena had friends who lived scattered over various parts of the township-complex of Soweto, as well as in other townships fairly nearby. Like the others we have met, with the excep- tion of the Segones, Miss Mokoena was on a number of the

"right" invitation lists for the consular or embassy oc- casions outside the Black townships, as well as moving in the circles of the social elite within Soweto itself.

Involved in the network of reciprocities to be further detailed in the following chapters. Miss Mokoena also gave a number of parties at which many of the social elite appeared, and these were counted as successes by those who attended.

Conclusion

The people we have met thus far share certain char- acteristics which make them outstanding in the social mosaic. They have more money than the average man in the street, they generally, though not always, have more free time, they all have the use of a car or cars belonging either to them or to the firm that employs them, and they are all well educated relative to the average Soweto resident. Most of them are fairly young, attractive. and articulate. And yet, as we will emphasize in the following chapter, not all persons who might share these same characteristics would be interested in their activities, or joining in the scuttling that interests many of the people we have just met.

In the following chapter we will examine the importance of some of the characteristics shared by the people we have just met. The importance of evaluations in scuttling will emerge as we follow events and people within the social mosaic. To understand the nature of evaluation within the context of the culture of inequality, and to explore the nature of friendship more fully is the purpose of the following chapter. CHAPTER SIX

THE SOCIAL MOSAIC: FRIENDSHIP

The importance of personal leisure-time friendships among the social elite has sometimes been neglected or overlooked. It is only recently that friendships outside of specific institutional contexts have become a legiti- mate area of inquiry. As we shall see, one's circle of friends is an essential ingredient not only of leisure- time social life, but also of one's differentiation from the "masses." The present chapter stresses the signifi- cance and ramifications of friendship and leisure-time personal association. It explores the seemingly para- doxical juxtaposition of residents' ideology of equality and the unavoidable fact that some residents are more equal than others. This apparent paradox resolves itself if equality and inequality are viewed as two faces of the same social dynamic.

Having conducted research with the social elite in a small (40,000 persons) and new (since 1949) Reef town- ship, Brandel -Syrier (1971:52) noted that probably the

"most important social fact" about the township was "the inability of the higher income groups among the educated and business people of Reeftown to come together in informal association and friendly home entertainment."

Many of the new Nigerian elite described by the Smythes

(1960:153) find their greatest diversion in the "sporadic

events to honour someone--recepti ons , teas, welcoming-home or bon-voyage parties, cocktail parties." However, these authors also remark that "the elite have much time on their hands." Whereas in a study carried out in Mbale,

Uganda, Jacobson (1973:5) noted how interaction with friends dominates the African residents' leisure time, and that the social boundaries of this interaction corresponded to those of elite and non-elite categories. The present chapter examines what role friendship plays in the ways the social elite in the two research townships see them- selves and set themselves apart from those other persons they consistently refer to as the "masses" or the

"ordinary labourers."

Friendship and Prestige

Friendship is part of a distinctive life-style which expresses, displays, and elaborates the economic differ- ences between elite and non-elite in the two research town- ships. Friendship means having a number of close personal associates with whom one spends the greater part of one's leisure time. Friends are generally those people who share common interests, who have more or less similar tastes, habits, preferences, and perspectives, as well as having :

11 ^

the time, money, and inclination to share these with others who possess certain characteristics in common with them.

The pattern of association which is specific to elite residents is based on the importance they place on certain criteria relative to the importance of these same criteria in the friendships of the "masses." These criteria are those used in the evaluations or assessments of other fellow

Black South Africans. These same criteria when shared are the most commonly found, but are not always a basis for friendship. The actual extent to which social interaction, based on these criteria, occurs--both between social equals

and between the " soc i al i tes " and the "masses"--is different in the two townships where research was carried out.

However, a strikingly similar culture of inequality charac- terizes both. The reflection of this culture of inequality can be seen in the statement by an African psychologist who consistently refers to the African social elite as "middle class." Mkele notes, with what is perhaps a degree of over- simplification that:

The middle-class man made middle-class friends and married inside the middle class. Some individuals have even denied their parents rather than face the social embarrassment of having to admit to a working-class parentage (Mkele quoted in Kuper 1965:99).

Noting that the status-giving churches were the Anglican, and the Methodist, the Presbyterian, and the A.M,E.,

Mkel e remarks 113

Not for the middle class the 1,001 Zionist churches with their throbbing drums, bun- dles of crosses, and flowing robes (quoted in Kuper 1965:99).

While this culture of inequality is viewed as "natural"

(i.e. that people tend to associate "with their own kind"), it simultaneously sits rather uncomfortably astride the pervasive notion that "We Africans, do not draw the distinc- tions that Whites draw--we are not snobs--we are all the same here. The humblest ordinary labourer is welcome in my home or I would buy him a drink in a shebeen if we met by chance."^ The speaker, an educator, highly placed within the system of African education, was chatting and relaxing in a plush easy chair beside his fireplace. He had just arrived from the day's duties and was still wearing his conservative business suit. When his wife entered, she laid out an elaborate tea for all of us to enjoy, but was so busy and preoccupied with attending to the final details of their son's planned marriage that she hardly remained seated. She herself is employed as a nurse and had arranged her annual leave to coincide with this busy period.

Contained in this often heard statement quoted above is the African ideal of hospitality, sociability, con- viviality, and respect for other people. However, it must be made clear that who is welcomed, entertained, provided

This idea that "We are all the same here" can refer (and some respondents specifically stated that it did refer) to equal subordination under apartheid . However, the ref- erence made to "the humblest labourer" focuses clearly on the criterion of occupational differentiation and its import in African social evaluation. 114

with food and drinks in the home or elsewhere by chance may

be markedly different from those people with whom it is

one's choice to do so. The ever-present problem of how to

avoid "gatecrashers" or how to handle the "rough element"

at special occasions or celebrations, as well as in informal

situations, makes this distinction quite clear. This is an

especially awkward and acute problem for highly visible

residents who may try to follow the ideal of equality, but

who sometimes find themselves deciding in favor of a partic-

ular venue (e.g. a fenced house set up on a hill) or certain

type of entertainment (e.g. "quiet record music") on the

grounds that "it won't attract undesirables." An alternate

solution is a firm but tactful "doorkeeper,"

Another demonstration of social differentiation by

choice is found in those voluntary associations with pri-

marily elite leadership, such as the one in which the

educator's wife is active. These associations are known

for their upper-crust membership in both townships. Leaders

devote a good deal of attention in discussion and meetings

to the ideal of recruiting a more broadly based membership; when in reality little apparent action follows from such attention. In this social situation, it is comm only remarked

by leaders and active members that "Our people have a complex." In other words there exists a widely held recog- nition of differences and a certain willingness to maintain and observe certain social boundaries. There is some degree of unwillingness to cross these same boundaries in situations e

such as specific organization membership. For the culture of inequality has been elaborated to such an extent that d i fferences between elite and non-elite, between "educated" and "illiterate," between "rich" and "poor," between

, "enlightened" and "unel ightened " between "progressive" and

" bac kward," V i ewed from within the Black society seem at such times nearly unbridgeable. This is the core of the problem of voluntary association leaders who express the hope for a more broadly based membership. The ideal is expressed nevertheless; the reality of the culture of in- equality makes it difficult to implement.

In the shebeens, the "illegal bottle stores," where many people, elite and non-elite, spend a good deal of time, the tendency toward social differentiation is apparent.

In a "decent shebeen" one seldom finds the "rough element,"

- the serving of the mu n i c i pal brewed form of African beer, or the serving of more powerful home-brews like g a v i n or

s h imeya ne . In several shebeens located in large fashion- able houses, admission is contingent upon "proper attire"

(for men a tie, if not also a coat), and patrons are directed into different rooms of varying sumptuousness according to what type and quality of alcoholic beverage is being consumed. Clientele tend to remain fairly regular, although more than one shebeen may be and usually is patronized. In other words, while shebeen-hopping weekend after weekend, many of the elite men with their wives (some of whom drink, others who do not) will tend to 116

encounter one another at some point in some shebeen on the regular rounds. The social boundaries tend to be established and habitually observed. During weekday evenings, the men more often are "out with the guys," shebeen-hopping with other men. During such evenings, most men once again meet others whom they know, and even if some recent feud-partner is drinking at the same shebeen, drinks will most likely be bought all around. Not necessarily every individual in a shebeen on such an evening will be a person viewed as elite, but non-elite are sometimes included by having pur- chased for them a token drink and they are included in some of the conversation. However, their exclusion is marked by the topics of conversation such as plans about where to drop in next.

The nature of the differences making for these social boundaries, and the significance attached to the differences by both elite and non-elite residents will be discussed within the framework of choice of associates for on-going leisure-time social interaction. The central point which must be stressed is that differences may have one set of meanings for an outside observer and quite a different set of meanings for the people whose lives are bounded by them.

What is of interest here is the significance attached to the differences and how they are culturally elaborated, i.e, what set of meanings is socially recognized and acted upon in actual relations between people. Throughout the discussion of criteria which follows, the emphasis will be on the dynamic interplay of objective and subjective criteria. Cognitively, no separation of these various criteria is made when they are being used by residents. For purposes of discussion they will be separated, but most or all criteria are part and parcel of

each evaluation. The cr i ter i a i nter 1 oc k i n differing pro- portions and combinations for which there is no objective measure, i.e. no firm and fixed limits exist. This shifting of interlocking proportions and combinations of criteria

is what makes for the dynamic aspect of scuttl i ng--the manipulation of prestige-capital may be successful and eventually place one in the position of knowing and being known by the "right people," i.e. "making it." On the other hand, through such scuttling, one may not be able to overcome certain disabilities and may never "make it," while at the same time becoming the brunt of ridicule for trying overly hard and still failing. Finally, some persons may choose not to play the game at all--placing their priorities el sewhere--and yet all the while sharing many of the values reflected in the following criteria.

Significant Criteria of Evaluation and Interaction

Common Interests

My friends should share common interests with me, otherwise we have nothing to say to each other and what good is that? Without exception members of the social elite emphasize verbally and follow i nteractional ly the importance of

"common interests" in the formation and continuation of friendships. This emphasis reflects the fact that an under- lying principle of perceived social equality (and differen- tiation from others) is at work in friendship choice and leisure-time association.

The implication is that withothers, non-elite persons, what could be shared in common? How could the partners to a relationship be "free" with one another, if they have no

"basis for understanding as we do?" A person's interests are a product of numerous factors including some or all of the following in any individual case: sex, age, family background, places of residence, places, type and length of education, present occupation, income, leisure time avail- able, church affiliation, marital status, stage of family developmental cycle, future plans and goals. Since any individual's interests are compounded of so many factors-- factors of life history which when shared would tend to produce common interests-- it is not surprising that the phrase "common interests" is used as a shorthand reference which subsumes a great deal. The phrase contains within it the idea that the more things I share with you which you evaluate as significant or important because you have experienced similar things, then the more likely we are to be friends.^ Furthermore, because of the nature of the

1. This is true at least in the initial stages of friendship formation. If and when we begin to compete for i

criteria employed, we are both likely to be considered elite by local standards, i.e. to be viewed as social superiors by the bulk of the community, but to consider ourselves social equals. We define ourselves by implicit or explicit con- trast to the "masses" in regard to: "respectable behavior" or "morals;" "cultivated tastes" "broad outlook;" "cosmopol- itan manners;" "education;" a "certain standard of living;"

" " neither being "an ordinary labourer" nor a t s o t s ^ nor a

"clever." Membership in one of the so-called "established churches" (Anglican, Methodist, Presbyterian, African

Methodist Episcopal) can be important, as can having a

2 "respectable family background" or a "well-known family."

The stated religious preference of the respondent sample is shown in Table 4.

Income

Having an income which allows the expression of one's other attainments is a necessary criterion. However, to have only wealth, and lack the other attributes means nothing (except that you are a wealthy person); if the wealth is not converted into social capital by its public use in scarce and desirable resources, or positions, our similari- ties may not be an asset to maneuverability. Hence, we may seek to emphasize and magnify the importance of small distinctions or differences. This aspect of scuttling will become clearer in the discussion of voluntary associations. ^A thug or "young tough." 2 It must be stressed that these criteria are defined socially in this specific setting and are not a part of the social scientific usage of the term "elite" (cf.

Chapter Three ) . 1 20

TABLE 4

STATED RELIGIOUS PREFERENCE

Denomination

Anglican 23

A.M.E. 4

Presbyterian 4

Roman Cathol i c 2

Method i st 14

Lutheran 2

None 3

Total 52 121

hospitality or its display in durable consumer goods or housing, such wealth will not place you in the "limelight" of the elite standing. Wealth must be used to express the fact that you are a well-off person who also possesses some other combination of the above attributes. On the other hand, a "big man" is not one who spends in excess of what it is perceived that he can comfortably afford, but he must never be considered stingy either. The line is some- times a tightrope not easily traversed, since practically everyone who is able likes to "make a big splash," to

"set the standard high." However, "too much" is publicly, as well as privately, condemned by some local residents and can provide material for jokes and jibes for some weeks following an event, as we will see in the discussion of events in a subsequent chapter.

The actual income of other residents--even close friends--is not often common knowledge and is rarely dis- cussed specifically; hence, since it is not known in abso- lute terms by other actors or in relation to the expected or normal demands upon it, there is plenty of room for ambiguity in assessing what is "too much," what is

"excessive" according to how well the action or event in question agrees with a local resident observer's values.

What role, then, does income play in leisure-time association and friendship? Depending once again on the individual economic priorities, the amount of income which could be termed disposable income varies even within the same salary range. However, with the high value placed on mutual conviviality, house style, alteration or state of completion, holiday travel, parties, celebrations, food, drinking, fashion, and cars, the obligations and reciproci- ties of moving in elite circles are beyond the reach of

the great bulk of residents. And in elite circles these

interests are shared by males and females. Women are

the more active in church and church-related acti v i ti es , and

they are viewed as "setting the tone" of the home in

its daily running and in child care, It is generally a

woman's responsibility to uphold the reputation of the

family with regard to the extension of suitable hospitality

and in attending to her guests. Interest in drinking is

more usually confined to men, although some elite women

enjoy more than token quantities of alcohol on social

occasions at which they are guests. Fashion and personal

appearance, as well as interest in housing styles and cars,

span both sexes as do the other items listed. Clearly

income is a factor limiting to a certain extent the

patterns of association. However, some residents may want

to partake and cannot afford, others may profess no

interest in such "antics," and still others may have the

economic means but not the interest in the activities

pursued by the elite.

It is important to note that there are those who

are well-off or "monied," but who are specifically

excluded from the select circles. Why should this be so? At least partially it is because their only base for building social capital is money, i.e. they are viewed as lacking the other components necessary for "making it."

On the other hand, we can say that of those moving in elite social circles, the lowest monthly income was more than four times that of the average household, and this was earned by a single female breadwinner (see Table 5). The successful medical doctor in private practice, or the

mul t i pi e- bu s i n e s s owner in the townships can by even the most conservative estimate surpass this same household average by upwards of a factor of 10.

While the view that "money makes human hapiness" is widely held, the same residents who hold this view see some of the problems attendant on its possession. The non- elite residents attribute the "divorces, drunkeness, pompousness," and aloofness of the elite, as well as other aspects of what non-elite perceive as the elite's

"failure to be true," to the possession of wealth. However, in a seemingly ambiguous way, the non-elite also attribute some of their own suffering and their disabilities to not having enough money. Everyone wants, needs, and struggles for money --the unskilled mainly by menial labor. And in a society where job reservation is legalized and institu- tionalized, where racism (however euphemized or justified) is the cornerstone of government policy, people needing money to meet their basic needs tend to see it as a panacea.

The lack of means touches every social relationship and )

TABLE 5

TOTAL MONTHLY INCOME

Married Respondents (23 couples) * Both Employed One Employed

Below $300 0 0

$301 - $500 5 1

$501 - $700 6 1

Above $700 8 2

Total Coupl es 1 9 4

Single Respondents (N=6)

Male ( 4 Fema 1 e { 2 )

Below $300 0 0

$301 - $500 2 1

$501 - $700 0 1

Above $700 2 0

*Of the 23 couples in the respondent sample, both husband and wife in each case were considered by residents as "top people." This is not always the case in the Black townships. There are other couples where one spouse, and not the other, is considered elite by local residents. . ? 125

cuts to the heart of an oppressed people. The African elite view the question of the "ha ves" a nd the "have-nots" wi thi n their color-caste and across color-castes as set within the overall political context of South Africa. But the immediacy of the needs of many non-elite Africans leads them to emphasize a symptom (money) and not a root cause of their present situation. Hence, for many non-elite, money has come to be viewed as a source of power to be eagerly sought as a solution to nearly any problem. These ambiguities and aspects of attitudes toward money are best distilled in the following translated poem titled "Money:"^

Who does not like you Who does not know you? Who does not preach you? Who has no ambition about you? Who does not struggle for you? Who does not long for you?

Look at men sweating Look at grey-haired men sweeping streets. Aged women working as 'nannies' in European suburbs How did this all come about, money?

Is it true that you give prosperity? Who causes these problems? Where you are girls surround you like flies. Married people are breaking marriages. You entice men to break their vows. Women are throwing away their dignity in search of you, the wizard. Girls are 'selling' themselves to seek you. Boys are killing each other because of you.

You are the one who makes people pompous. You have 'twisted' the heads of men. Today they are making guns. Look they are now making bombs.

^This poem, written in Shona, by an anonymous author, appeared in the July 13, 1974, issue of Moto , a newspaper The sky is black with planes of war. All these things are designed to kill the souls of people. How did this all come about, money?

We are losing the heritage of Zimbabwe. People are 'selling' the country because of you. If you were absent the country would be 'properous. ' Who is more important--you or our race? You are failing the inheritance of our children. How did this all come about, money?

If a person finds you mutual antagonism emerges between him and his kinsmen. If a person fails to find you he is looked down upon like a vagabond. Ways of finding you are now many. You money, you caused the blood of many people to be shed. You bring prosperity and problems You destroyed love in many families You kindled fire in the eyes of many people. Boys are being rejected by girls because

of you . Women are leaving their families in search of you. Tell me without playing on feelings Hey, money, how this all came about?

Occupation

Residents who are self-employed by practicing a profession widely known and highly visible in the townships are the most highly regarded in the occupational sphere.

Medical doctors like Dr. Dube, Dr. Kumalo, and Dr. Mafoko best fit this description, and in addition, if they are in private practice, as a number are, then they have the added plus of not being viewed as working for those

with a predominantly African circulation published by Mambo Press in Gwelo, Rhodesia. I am indebted to Mr. Robson Mandishona Shora who translated it and brought it to my attention. I d. /

consistently referred to as the "Dutch boys."^ Doctors, unlike school principals or teachers, UBC members, social workers or ministers of "established" churches, are not viewed as an appendage of apartheid because doctors are not using their skills under the aegis of apartheid - created or influenced areas such as Bantu Education, town-

ship administration or separate worship. Hence, doctors

have by their occupation accrued an already large reservoir

2 of prestige among township residents, and nearly all doctors move in elite social circles. However, it is

important to stress that, if other of the behavioral criteria

being discussed here are not met, a particular doctor may

be subject to some critical comments and negative evalua-

tions. But at the same time, the large reservoir of pres- tige lends a good deal of immunity.

Black doctors, who are not in private practice, no

1 matter how wel -qual if i ed , can treat only members of their

own color-caste, suffer salary discrimination, and are

customarily not placed in positions where they would be

superior to a White medical doctor who might be working at

A term applied by many Africans to refer derogatorily s 1 i i i to the po 1 i t i ca 1 y-dom na n t Af r kaa n - s pea k ng establishment and its representatives. The reference to "boys" is a recognition of the fact that an African male, of any age, is always subject to being called "boy." This latter is a des- pised form of address. However, it should be noted that in Britain and in the British South African context, the terms "My boy" or "Old boy" are frequently used to mean 'fellow' or "chap," i.e. used between White and White without such derogatory connotation. In this latter case, the term "boy" is used to express mutual affection and comradery. 2 By virtue of being medical doctors, these men have high educational qualifications and positions of -

a Black hospital such as Baragwanath near Soweto. But from the viewpoint of the average Black man in the street, a

Black medical doctor is indeed well-placed.

Doctors, with the large reservoir of prestige which accrues to them through their occupation, are somewhat be- yond the reach of the ordinary evaluations of "respectabi 1

ity"(to be discussed below). They have a good deal of

social immunity which allows them to behave in ways which would be condemned as "irresponsible" or "silly" if engaged

in by a person of less job prestige, income, education, etc. Again we see that the criteria of evaluation and

interaction are interlocking.

Association patterns are summed up by references to doctors as a social category. Reference was made consis- tently to the "enlightened," the "educated," or the "big guys" as "those who associate with the doctors." State- ments like this latter demonstrate once again the importance of association. It is assumed that social equals associate with each other, and it is advantageous to be known as a person with a wide circle of the "right" friends. The occupations of the respondent sample are set out in Table 6.

School principals, in particular those of some of the high schools in both townships, are well known and are regarded as possessing a number of the desired criteria.

Some do move in elite circles. They occupy a position of responsibility. Their wealth, accruing from the practice of their profession, along with these other factors, comprises much of their reservoir of prestige. e 129

TABLE 6

OCCUPATION BY SEX

Male Femal Occupational Category (N=27) (N=25)

Medical/legal professionals 6 0

Business 3 4

Arts (includes music, drama, literature, journalism) 7 0

Sales, advertising, marketing 6 2

Principal teacher/teacher 2 2

Clerk 4 3

Housewife 0 14

Nurse 0 4

Social Worker 0 2

Total* 28 31

*The total of occupations for both male and female respondents is greater than the number of respondents since some persons engage in more than one occupation. For example, it is sometimes difficult for some of those in the Arts to earn enough from their talents to live as they like. Hence, they take full-time jobs that allow them to pursue their creative work in addition. Housewives who, for example, share in the running of a family shop are counted as in business and also as housewife. A businessman's wife who shares shop duties, but has full-time domestic help is counted once, i.e. under business. Similarly, women in sales, advertising, and market- ing work, who have full-time domestic help are counted once, i.e. under sales. 130

ambiguity both in their own regard and in others' assessments because of their participation in the system of Bantu

Education--a system which is dismissed out of hand by nearly all well-educated Africans as being designed not to educate, but to "keep the African in his place." Repeatedly the remark is made that education should be designed to broaden perspectives and open new horizons, not make narrow ill- prepared and ethnically oriented people. Education is, they stress, for human beings. In a June, 1973, survey conducted in Soweto,^ only one-third of the people said they approved of the present system of Bantu education. This same report refers to the Bantu Education program as a "very sore point among most Sowetons." None of the social elite contacted during the course of my research at Soweto favored the pre- sent system of special education for different color-castes, nor the ethnic grouping being further introduced into that system at the time of this study.

Social workers are divided by the intellectuals among the elite into those with a diploma and those who have a degree, the latter carrying greater prestige and being referred to as graduate social workers. Many are active

in charity work and in addition are employed by the municipality at youth centers or by welfare organizations.

They are regarded as well-educated and many are "respectable,"

^Quadrant Internati onal , South Africa. Reported inMenge, ," "Rand Daily Ma i 1 January 12, 1974:7. 131

but only a few can combine enough of all the various criteria to be considered truly outstanding.

The ministers of the "establ i shed" churches are well known and some are dedicated to a new type of ministry no longer aloof from the issues and problems created by

apartheid . And some are exploring the elements of an emergent Black theology. But in general, though they may officiate at the weddings, funerals, and christenings of the social elite, they are not an integral part of the activ-

ities and reciprocities involved in that social set. The occupation of clergyman is simply not consistent, according to general prevailing Black community standards, with the amount of leisure time spent in mutual conviviality which almost always involves alcohol, or with the amount of time spent away from home. The clergyman must ideally be avail- able to all who call on him, and his behavior is severely circumscribed by the community. Also in many instances his economic means to reciprocate are limited, since generally clergy are not highly renumerated.

Many of the "show-biz" personalities, artists, and entertainers who have "made it big" (especially overseas) are welcomed by the Soweto "jet set." Jazz and soul musicians, poets, playwrights, and artists, current and popular in the townships of South Africa, are able on the

strength of their accomplishments to gain entre^ into the

"right" circles without such a large reserve of prestige or social capital as might be required of others. And 132

since they are exempt from certain of the more conventional expectations about "respectability," this is one example of how the criteria can be applied in different proportions and combinations. Their high visibility can in some cases enable them to scuttle and "make it."

Being self-employed in the township has been mentioned as one measure of occupational prestige, but this criterion, too, is variable. As we have seen in the case of the Segones, it does not always automatically confer the prestige nec- essary for inclusion in the top circles. Consideration of two further occupations will make this point clear.

There are, both at Kwa Mashu and at Soweto, numerous self- employed diviners who can offer expertise in communication with one's ancestral spirits. These diviners, consulted usually in time of trouble, provide for their clients an interpretation of what is required in order to placate the ancestral spirits. The cult of these diviners is far from dying out in the townships and their new styles, as well as their functional significance will be examined in Chapter

Eight along with other experts who attain high visibility and high standing through a clientele of or association with "top people." What is of interest here is that, although their practice as diviners or spirit mediums serving township residents in a healing role enables them to accumulate many of the desirable accoutrements of life-style, association, and other attributes, these diviners do not generally or automatically move with the social elite in their leisure-time activities. However, for

the new style diviner the "social graces" and a high standard of formal education do tend to make such a person successful.

Another occupational category illustrative of the variability present in the application of combinations of

the criteria of evaluation is the African businessman. The very well-off businessman is exemplified by the father of the groom in the sensational wedding discussed along with other events which give form to the social mosaic (cf.

Chapter Nine). He began as a butcher in 1947 and "now owns three butcheries, a trading store, a cafe, a hairdressing salon, and a garage with one of the biggest individual petrol sales" in the Republic. "He plans to build a R60,000

bioscope; his daily takings are said to exceed R1,000"

(Kuper 1965:267).^ The cinema referred to has since been built next to Mofolo Hall, and this businessman continues to appear financially very successful. He remains adamant that education does not yield much of the value in today's world, while many local residents remain equally adamant that he is a "clod," "cannot sign his own name to a check," is "only a front for Whites who want businesses in Soweto and cannot have them directly," and that "if you look at his house you will see that he doesn't know how to live or how to spend his money." In spite of his widely-publicized wealth, he is not included in the activities of the social

^In addition he now owns a dry-cleaning depot. 134

elite, although he is referred to in press reports as a

"tycoon." He, in turn, professes no interest in participa- tion in the activities of the social elite. He is an example of one of the persons, referred to earlier in this chapter, who expresses no interest in what "they" do. In a later chapter we will see how he reacted to criticisms of the spectacular wedding he sponsored for his son.

In contrast, a younger and better-educated businessman, who also has multiple, but less publicized, business interests, and a more comparatively modest income, moves easily in the "right circles." He is widely evaluated as a "sensible sort" who "knows how things are done." He often drops in at the Mafoko's and his afternoon when he is usually off work coincides with Dr. Mofoko's and another medical doctor not mentioned earlier.

Other avenues to commercial enterprise are exemplified by some medical doctors who have branched out to open shops generally overseen by their wives, and at least one of the

"gangland kingpins" known to this researcher has invested in a shop also overseen by his wife. She also has her own

enterpr i se--one of the hundreds of "illegal bottle stores" or shebeens in the township.

Closely tied to the businessmen and women are the various marketing, sales, and advertising representatives, like Mr. Segone, who call at the shops and stores, with, for example, particular lines of cigarettes, drugs, or foods. Another "rep" is the man whose job it is to see . 135

that a particular line of alcoholic beverages is being marketed, supplied, and consumed on behalf of the firm which employs him. His occupation requires of him the enviable (to him) and the unenviable (to his wife) task of making the rounds to the various shebeens and promoting his products in the evenings and especially at the busy weekend periods. While these "reps" work on behalf of White- owned firms (some of them overseas companies), they are in a somewhat less ambiguous position than the school principal or social worker, since the "reps" are not so widely viewed as closely tied to the system of institutionalized racism that characterizes South Africa.

Nursing, presently regarded as the most desirable profession for women to enter, and in which they participate, does not itself confer elite standing. Like many of the other occupations, it must be combined with several of the other criteria yet to be discussed. Generally, however, nurses married to medical doctors such as Mrs. Dube, nurses who are known to have multiple or special qualifications, or nurses occupying some post of administration over other

Black nursing sisters and aides are more likely to be moving the select social circles than other nurses. Some examples of this latter would be those who serve as matrons in local clinics or sister tutors engaged in the training of student nurses

Membership of the Urban Bantu Council is appropriately mentioned in conjunction with occupation, since such 136

membership is renumerated. However, it should be made clear that for most UBC members, this membership constitutes a secondary part-time occupation. The prestige-capital accru- ing exclusively from membership in this apartheid -created forum is minimal. In any case other of the criteria under discussion here are necessary for election to the UBC in the first place. Some of the same criteria could enable a UBC member to move in elite circles. Several members do belong to the elite social set because they possess these other criteria; and because at the same time they manipu- late their UBC membership to exploit to the fullest extent the prestige-capital they have accrued in other spheres.

One example is Mr. Mpanza, a friend of Mr. Pula, who holds a university degree, has travelled to America, currently rents a large house, appears frequently in the press, and holds a post with a prestigious firm. Another UBC member,

Mr. Pula, whose supermarket already mentioned, was being enlarged at the time of this study, has the other attributes sketched earlier. The reader will remember that Mr. Pula and his wife are so widely known for their parties in honor of visiting foreign dignitaries and other special occasions, that their very name is synonymous with the apex of society. Mrs. Pula makes her own contribution to their standing by being active in such events as the

Debutante's Ball described earlier.

The relatively few African lawyers, while less well-

known than the medical doctors, enjoy a prestigious position 137

since they deal within the judicial system on behalf of the African clientele. They have,, in many cases, the education, the means, the homes, the cars, and the sophis- tication to move in. elite social circles and some have the experience of foreign travel as well.

Educati on ^

Many of the desirable educational attainments have already been subsumed, at least implicitly, in the fore- going discussion of occupations. In Table 7, the number of years of education by sex for the respondent sample are arrayed. The reader will note the high educational standard of the social elite respondent sample. However, it is again important to stress that education, in and of itself, does not confer elite standing. Nor is the relative lack formal education necessarily a bar to moving in elite circles.

Of Soweto adults surveyed by Quadrant International, South Africa (1974), 15 percent had no formal education, 44 percent had between Std. Ill and Std. VI (5-8 years), 10 percent had J.C. (11 years), 4 percent had matriculation (13 years), and 2 percent held a degree. Quadrant International, South Africa, is a consortium of business firms who had the survey carried out in their behalf primarily to assess the scope of marketing potential among urban Blacks. A copy of the survey itself, not available to private individuals, cost the equivalent of nearly $300.00. The survey results were partially reported in a lengthy article in the "Rand Daily Mail." These data were confirmed by the author of the article, Menge). Although this reseacher tried to arrange to have access to a copy of this survey, all attempts were unsuccessful. The reader will note wide discrepancies be- tween the Quadrant International survey and the University of South Africa survey (1970) discussed in Table 14. The reason for the observed differences cannot be determined since the sampling technique used in the later study is un- known. In the earlier study (Nel et al . 1971), the sample was chosen to provide data at the 95 percent confidence Some of the musicians, models, artists, diviners, and active charity workers, who ef f ect i vel y expl o i t their expertise and who are highly visible, popular, or well known, do not hold outstanding educational qualifications. But because of their possessing other of the desirable criteria under discussion here, and because of their successful manipulation of the prestige-capital available to them, some can and often do move in elite social circles. For example, Mrs. Mandla, who for financial reasons had to leave school after Std.

VI (8 years), is a skilled factory worker whose outstanding organizational ability, excellent command of English, and energies devoted to charity work, enable her to hold her own with some other participants who are of a higher educa- tional standrd. She, furthermore, has a well-built stylish house, fully completed except for minor alterations to the driveway and garage area. Her husband is also active in charity work, and her eldest daughter is currently enrolled at University. All these other factors enter into any evaluation of Mrs. Mandla's standing; so that overall her educational level recedes in importance. level, while the confidence level for the 1973 study could not be assessed. Discrepancies between the two studies in values for any measured attribute could easily result from sampling bias; changes in the population during the time interval between the two studies; or from a larger-than- anticipated variability within the population. In this latter case, the actual confidence in the measure of any attribute would be lessened because of sample size would be too small to compensate for the degree of variability with- in the population. 1

I jy

TABLE 7

NUMBER OF YEARS OF EDUCATION BY SEX

Mai es F ema 1 es

Under 1 0 0 0

- 10 1 3 4

12 or more 24 21

N* = 52

*52 persons are included in this table: the 23 social elite couples (46 persons), and in addition 4 males and 2 females who are either widowed, separated, divorced, or never married (but who are household heads). . 140

A certain amount of formal education or self-study is necessary, however, before one's command of English^ is adequate to enable one to meet and mix easily with those of the social elite and with foreign dignitaries and a few local

Whites. This does not mean the social elite use English exclusively (though frequently), nor does it mean that most other residents at Soweto understand only their own African language. As one fashionable former high school teacher

(now a full-time i sa ngoma diviner) put it, "There is proper

English and there is 'front door English'." She supported

her statement with a superb mimicry of "front door English," which was wildly amusing to the other residents with whom we were walking at the time. "Front door English" is spoken by a resident to anyone--Black or White--who knocks

2 at the front door of a home in the township. This is done

in an effort to impress the visitor. Lacking the necessary education or experience, the occupant of the house may use ungrammatical or heavily accented English. In so doing the occupant (in the eyes of the former teacher and her

Seven out of ten Soweto residents can speak and read English, and most regard English as the most important lan- guage to know in South Africa (Quadrant International, South Africa, 1974). Considering the nature of the prestige-load- ing carried by the use of English, the figure 7 out of 10 should be used with due caution. There is no indication of the administration of any measure of fluency in speaking or reading English. 2. The front door is normally used by strangers or sometimes by visitors on formal special occasions, and by anyone in general who does not know the residents of a house Other persons will enter through the back door even though this necessitates wa Iking around what is sometimes a large house 141

friends at least) succeeds only in looking foolish for putting on airs.

There is prestige-capital to be earned by carrying out a fluent conversation in English, and the topics of

interest in such conversations reflect, among other things, education. Without education one would not share the

extremely important "common interests" already mentioned above. Topics of discussion among the social elite include current international affairs, local politics and govern- ment policy, travel experiences, reminiscences about board-

ing school days, the last great party, or current trends in

fashion, homes, and cars, common problems and plans for

future social activities.

One example will illustrate the way in which the

conversations and interests of elite and non-elite can con-

stitute two stri kingly di fferent and separated spheres. When

the Portuguese coup d'etat occurred on April 25, 1974, it

was a primary topic of lengthy conversation and debate for

many members of the social elite--both male and female--for

some time thereafter. People like Miss Velelo, Mr. and

Mrs. Segone, Dr. Mafoko and his wife. Dr. Kumalo, Dr. and

Mrs. Dube, and several other doctors, and a lawyer, found

the event significant. On the other hand, the average man

in the street or woman in her home on that day (and for at

least two days thereafter) did not know that the events in

Portugal had occurred; or if the events were known, they . 142

were viewed with little interest as having no direct bearing on the here and now of daily life. Hence, the coup was not di scussed

For the great majority of Black South Africans, the immediate problems of daily survival and making ends meet overshadow such discussion as took place among the few social elite. The latter have some margin between them- selves and hunger, cold, or poverty. They have had the oppor- tunity for education, relatively better-paying jobs or professions, etc., which many of them are already eagerly attempting to pass along to their children--mainly in the form of education. But their views on a suitable type of education are much more specific than those of the non- elite, who in many cases nevertheless make tremendous sacra- fices in order that their children can stay at school as long as possible. Education felt to be superior by the elite is anything other than what the township schools offer or that found at the "tribal"^ segregated African universi- ties.

The boarding school experience of many of the social elite is being repeated by their children, or, as we have seen earlier, if children are still small, their education is already being planned. In order to escape the "evils

^The use of the term "tribal" follows that common among Africans generally when they condemn administrative policy or educational quality at the three African universities. Ft. Hare, Ngoye, and Turfloop. "Tribal" is also used to convey the ethnic separation enforced at the three universities--a separation which they also generally condemn. 143

of Bantu education," many parents prefer that their children attend secondary boarding schools in Lesotho, Botswana, or

Swaziland. At the undergraduate university level, the

University of Botswana, Lesotho, and Swaziland is more highly regarded than the South African "tribal" universities located in rural areas. Sons and daughters of some of the social elite who are already at the post-graduate level, attend

(by special permission of the relevant government minister)

"White" universities. Permission is granted only where a student intends pursuing a subject not yet offered at the

"tribal" universities. Such subjects include dentistry, speech therapy, and medicine. Large numbers of students attend university with the aid of loans and scholarships.

In addition, adults of both sexes were working on degrees through private enrollment in correspondence courses with the University of South Africa, Pretoria. Kuper (1965:97) noted a tendency for improved life-chances to lead to the crystallization of existing pre-eminence. However, it must also be noted that this is only a tendency, as examples such as the following show. The parents of one young man, who had completed his B.Sc. and is now employed by an international firm, have had no formal education. Becker

(1974:160) cites a number of other examples of this latter type of situation.

Study abroad-- in a Black African state, in England,

Germany, Canada, or the United States--is regarded by the social elite as providing the background for a truly ,

144

cosmopolitan sophisticated viewpoint. To obtain a fellowship or to have such an opportunity is rare and much sought after.

Hence, anyone who has already had such an educational back- ground has at his or her disposal a ready fund of prestige- capital. Such a fund can to some extent offset any present disadvantages such as lack of an elaborate house or an expensive car (as in the cases of the Mafokos or Miss

Mokoena), and enable one to move consistently in the circles and activities of the social elite. Travel abroad, sponsored by such organizations as USALEP (United States of America

Leadership Exchange Program), various church-related organ- izations or business exchange programs along with privately financed holidays are other avenues available for obtaining such experience.

Respectability and Life-Style

The type of life-style led by individuals and families is one of the primary considerations in residents' assess- ments of "respectability" or the question of "morals."

Some components of life-style will be dealt with below, while others will be given fuller discussion in a later chapter. Along with judgements of people's public behavior, evaluations based on people's private lives become the basis for the assessment of "respectability." Rumor, gossip, and scandal play an important role in such assessements but these, too, are an integral part of scuttling, and so will be fully detailed later. One example will suffice here.

Rumor had it that, some years prior to my research, one of 145

the doctor's wives was allegedly involved in a scandal regarding an abortion ring. This, however, appeared to have had little effect on her present position. Once again in the context of friendship and prestige, it is often the case that one may be judged by the company one keeps. This makes the "right" circle of friends and associates an asset.

But there is broad social recognition of the fact that there are people usually considered to move in elite social circles who are not any more, and sometimes less, "respect- able" than those who are the "hard-working decent people."

The two related principles used in the assessment of

"respectability" are: (1) consistency or congruency of behavior, public and private, with expectations created by the above criteria for social interaction-, (2) the balance between "too much" and "too little," i.e. the avoidance of excess. An example of the first principle of congruent expectations is that if a well-educated well-off man hold- ing a good job were to be found spending a great deal of time in a "rough" shebeen, carelessly clad, constantly drunk on illicit home-brews, fighting and then moving on foot aimlessly through the streets after dark, he would not be considered "respectable." Now to turn to the second principle--that of balance, avoidance of excess.

If the same man, in the course of these activities, left his wife and children without the barest necessities, while drinking and "carousing" with undesirable companions (both male and female), he is viewed as "irresponsible." In e

146

other words, he has not properly balanced his obligations with his recreation.

"Respectability," and its counterpart "responsibility," along with "common interests," are the most subjective and subtle of all the criteria for social evaluation. Further- more, because of this subjectivity, "respectability" and

"responsbi 1 i ty" are more easily manipulated, and hence more useful as a mechanism for maintenance of elite social boundaries. It is a mechanism for the exclusion of persons who conform to all the other significant criteria, since they can still be evaluated as not "respectable enough," or "irresponsible."

The behavioral facets of "respectability" can best be delineated in contrast to the "evils" attributed to those of low social standing. They are variously described as

"raw," "illiterate," "loud," "rude," "aggressive," and

"hostile," given to fighting and drunkenness. They con-

sume shimeyane or g a v i n (powerful illicit alcoholic home-

brews), live in houses that are generally d i s hevel ed, a nd set little store by a neat appearance and proper "manners" or "social graces." They are viewed as so "narrow" or

"unenlightened" that they can only mix with their own sort.

They are "inconsiderate and quarrelsome" with their neigh- bors, "noisy," and viewed as "irresponsible." If they attend a church at all, they are characterized as belonging to one of the more recent of the independent "drum-beating and speaking- in-tongues sects." 147

Monogamous marriage is the ideal as well as the norm.

Those men who are married to two women both in the township are criticized for not realizing that "times have changed."

Their wives are continually pointed out from behind dis- creet curtains or from the privacy of a car as "wife number one" or "wife number two." The wives are usually criticized for always having time on their hands, and not for having an idea of what it takes to run a home or care for children properly. The children of such parents are looked upon with a sort of pity, while at the same time not being viewed as suitable companions for one's own children of similar age or sex. The same general characterization of wife and children is applied to those of low social standing when they are married monogamously or living together.

From the foregoing characterizations used by the social elite, it must not be concluded that they adhere to the ideals expressed in the term "respectability," but that their shared evaluation judgements serve to differen- tiate "them" from "us." In other words, we find a rationale which is put forward by those in the superior position who thereby retain the right to set the conditions of their own identity. These characterizations can serve as a substantiation and reinforcement of their right to advan- tage, prestige, and privilege within the culture of in- equality of the African color-caste.

In reality, a wider latitude of behavioral options

is open to the social elite, and they are, in general, much 148

less subject to the slings and arrows of similar disappro- bation. This is the case because of their larger reserve of prestige-capital, and because they have the means and the mobility to conduct their indiscretions and practice their vices in a different style. The liquor "rep" is only doing his job; the doctor is having a drink with the other regular customers of a particular "decent" shebeen which serves bottle beer (usually at least two brands to suit individual preference), along with spirits such as gin, vodka, brandy, or cane. The social elite are able to

afford the r ec i proc i t i e s of buying dr i nk s, a nd still maintain the niceties of home and family living standards, along with providing for the support of one or more extra-marital female companions and any children born to them. For men, elite or non-elite, it is said that a wife only has cause for complaint when she is not being maintained properly according to the relevant applicable standards. Women, elite or non-elite, for the most part agree with, or at least acquiesce to, this pragmatic appraisal.

For the relatively well-off man these various demands need not come into conflict. He can provide his wife with a car, a suitable house, meet children's expenses, clothing,

ing costs, and school fees, while still freely enjoying the varieties and pleasures life has to offer. In addition, the wife of this man is likely to be able to hold a job which enables her to provide for some of the things considered necessities of a proper standard of living for 149

her family without pleading with her husband for funds.

This relative social immunity of the elite has also been

noted by Brandel -Syr i er (1971:105-106), not only in regard to the African township she studied, but for America as well.

The activities and life-styles of the social elite-- some different in degree, others in kind from the non- elite--are so essential in defining the social elite, and are such an integral part of understanding the nature of scuttling within the context of the culture of inequality, that Chapter Ten will be devoted to delineating their life-style. Within the context of the importance of friendship among the social elite, we now turn to another method of emphasizing and expressing equality through the convivial use of friendship terminology.

Friendship Terminology

Within the sharing of companionship and activities, and the meeting of mutual obligations, the use of certain forms of reference and address serves to express and empha- size solidarity. Such usage serves at the same time to mark off others not participating in the same sphere.

This terminology makes use of, but simultaneously reverses, the semantic content of negative and derogatory meanings usually associated with the use of the particul ar terms by the dominant White society. The terms "kaffir" and "native," when used by South

African Whites to refer to or address an African, are con- sidered by the latter the utmost insult because they carry the connotation of a sub-human thing, an object. Alter- nately, the terms carry the connotation of a simple, happy, agreeable, carefree, child-like being with a constantly beaming face. The adjective "raw," as used by the dominant society (and by some of the elite to refer to non-elite) conveys the lack of civilized deportment or manners, and a backward country person not wise in city ways. This same meaning can be conveyed by a particular gesture used by some of the elite. How these terms are sometimes over- turned will be detailed below.

In an analogous way ethnic stereotypes, widely used by Africans to describe other Africans of a different ethnic group, have been taken over by the social elite, and are mutually applied in a joking way to indicate that they consider such stereotypes less than useless. Once again they contrast themselves with the non-elite who are thought to feel such ethnic divisions important. Such usage also conveys the message that educational and residential segregation by ethnic groups within the town- ships, as imposed by the South African government, is being symbolically defied by the social elite.

The dangers which inhere in attaching double meanings to sensitive usages such as those above need not be belabored. Such usages are situation-specific. They are 151

used by close personal friends, among people who consider themselves equals. For example, as Miss Velelo departed from a spontaneous informal gathering, and discussion con- tinued over plans for a cook-out the next week, one medical doctor remaining behind shouted from the porch to her car, "Mandisa, don't forget to make lots of food,

'natives' eat alot!" Mandisa responded immediately with,

"Don't worry, baby, I know the Bantu--I've known them all my life." Her rejoinder is a derisive imitation of another comment often made by Whites in South Africa. Most

Africans resent being called "Bantu," and are quite famil- iar with how patronizingly well White South Africans think they know and understand "their Bantu."

In another instance, Mr. and Mrs. Segone had just returned from a Saturday morning furniture-shopping trip to town where they had ordered a new king-size bedstead,

Simmons mattress, and box springs. While Thandie and I were in the kitchen preparing tea, Thapelo, her husband, sat in the breakfast nook within earshot. As Thandie described the padded, tufted, f a br ic -covered headboard,

I inquired about its color which she replied was mauve.

Thapelo interjected, "I thought it was blue, are you sure?"

Thandie replied that she was indeed sure, and her husband responded in mock philosophical resignation, "Well, that just goes to show what a 'raw' Mosotho knows about colors!"

The Xhosa have been widely stereotyped by other

Africans as being especially intelligent and shrewd .

(du Toit 1975b:25; Edelstein 1972:92). This stereotype finds its way into introductions like the following: Mr,

Segone says, "Please meet Mike. But be careful, he's a very shrewd Xhosa." The occasion for such an introduction might be two individuals being introduced by a third who knew both. Or alternately this introduction might be used at a large house party where the compere of the evening was being introduced by the host to his assembled guests.

It never failed to elicit the desired laughter.^

Through such subtle usages, friends identify one another and set themselves apart from those who would take offense at the usually derogatory terms or stereotypes being applied to them. The terms stress and reflect equality among friends, they ridicule an imposed system of color-castes and its imposers, and they express solidarity among those who are at the top of their own color-caste.

At the same time the social elite are marginal in their own society, and not acceptable in the dominant White society. The Black social elite find momentary freedom in each other's mutual respect, easy companionship, and warm hospital i ty

Miss Mokoena's cook-out provides a case in point.

She had issued word-of-mouth invitations about a week before she planned her "do." The planned party began early on a Friday evening, with some people coming directly

^In this latter instance the compere would most likely be presented as Mr. Mike Moloto. s

from their jobs without going home to change first. Since the group was large, and Miss Mokoena's house is a small one, she had set out all the food items in containers on tables at the rear of her yard. There were large basins of steak and lamb to be grilled on skewers over several braziers placed about the yard. The traditional sour por- ridge was on hand, as well as various salads. The silver- ware and paper napkins were laid out beside the salads, and drinks were set out on the living room coffee table along with the ice bucket, mixers, glasses, nuts and potato chips. Each guest served himself, and then chose a seat in the living room, the bedroom, or the kitchen--wherever a space could be found--to enjoy the repast. Some guests remained standing outside, since the evening weather was mild, talking in small groups of three or four persons.

By the time everyone had obtained and filled a plate, the stereo music was playing, the kerosene lamps had been lit, and the driveway woul d not have accommodated another vehicle.

Beyond the high fence and gate, other cars of 1 ate-arr i val were parked next to the street.

The nature of the occasion dictated the attire for those who had not come from work, and many guests wore casual attire such as trousers and casual jackets or open shirts. Over the general din, some guests conversed, while others danced in the middle of the living room, where by now the coffee table had been pushed to one side to allow maximum space for dancing. The guests included .

Mr. Mpanza, Dr. and Mrs. Kumalo, Dr. and Mrs. Mafoko, several University technicians, other medical doctors whom we have not met .before in this study, teachers and princi- pals, social workers, and housewives. The atmosphere was relaxed and congenial, the music loud, the liquor abundant, and the party was off to a "swinging" start.

Hence, it is not surprising that the sentiments surrounding personal friendships are strong. For the very essence of such friendships is that they: (1) provide moments which are removed from or out of the structure and competition that pervades daily life; (2) exist among a marginal (elites in the Black color-caste) and structurally inferior (Black in a White-minority dominated country) people; (3) provide a "communion of equality" found in few other ways; (4) are characterized by marked empathy and intense one-to-one interaction. This modality of social relationship has been termed "communitas" (Turner 1969:

96 et passim), and the generation of spontaneous "communitas" is of over-riding importance in friendships among the social elite. It is one of the factors which brings them to- gether again and again for shared leisure-time pursuits, both planned and impromptu.

It is no surprise, then, that their friendships, based on the criteria discussed above, are not strictly bounded by spatial residential limits, as we shall see presently, or by ethnic status as we shall see in the following c hapter I O yj

Friendship and Residence

The friendships of the elite are not confined to one area or township within the township-complex. Rather they stretch across a number of miles and also to different township-complexes. The factor of physical mobility can be viewed as limiting the frequent and spontaneous contact of non-elites with others who are separated from them in space. Their transport is usually limited to the second- class taxis which service the African townships, buses, or trains having routes into the center city. Unless special arrangements are made for the loan or hire of a car, this form of transport is not available. A personal or family motorcar is almost unheard-of in non-elite circles and this fact affects the friendships of non-elite Africans.

The car, whether a privately owned vehicle or a firm's car at the personal disposal of an employee, borders on a sine qua non for elite membership and participation.

Hence most of the respondent sample had cars at their disposal. The physical mobi 1 i ty thus provided allows them to visit, travel, shebeen-hop, and generally interact during their leisure time with people whom they choose.

An examination of the residential propinquity of the two best friends of each of the elite respondents shows that

13 percent listed one or both friends as residing outside the Soweto-complex. Forty-four percent named persons as two best friends who lived in a different township within the Soweto-complex. Those naming one or both friends as living in the same township within Soweto comprised 32

percent. Only 11 percent said one or both of their best

friends lived in the same block. These figures are not

surprising in light of the availability of means of trans-

port and in view of the elite's emphasis on "common

interests" as a criterion for choice of leisure-time assoc-

iates. They can and do move about, in some cases over

rather considerable distances, to spend time with their

chosen compatriots.

In the Salisbury, Rhodesia area, Kileff (1975:97)

reports that only 15 percent of the "affluent Africans" had met and made friends exclusively on the basis of "urban

neighborhoods." And in Mbale, Uganda, despite the fact that most elite Africans live in one "area of town," they do

not choose their friends from nearby neighbors, as do most

non-elite Africans (Jacobson 1973:66).

The newer westernmost townships of the Soweto complex

such as Naledi and Zola are commonly referred to by the

elite as the "Wild West." They contend that they would

never use this term when meeting someone whom they knew

or thought to live in the "Wild West," since these latter

areas are regarded as "backward places" where "rude"

people predominate. This fact might be expected to be

reflected in the residential areas within Soweto where the

friends of the elite reside. This is, in fact, the case.

Of those social elite responding that one or both friends resided in another Soweto township, only six such friends resided in one of the "Wild West" townships. The townships east of Moroka, including Moroka itself, and in addition:

Dube, Meadowlands, Orlando West Extension, Diepkloof, and

Orlando, were most often named by the social elite as loci for friends. These latter townships are, on the whole, those that are longer-established and hence less ethnically homogeneous than those in the "Wild West." This lesser ethnic homogeneity is due to the fact that Soweto is expand- ing in a general westward orientation. Hence the townships like Zola or Naledi, occupied since 1955, have been more effectively homogenized than the older townships named

(Moroka and eastward) simply because only members of a particular ethnic unit are assigned housing in the newer areas. On the other hand, some of the eastward and earlier-

occupied townships i n the complex were settled before the stringent attempts at separating Africans resident i ally.

Hence they are more ethnically heterogeneous. There is no clear on-the-ground boundary between any of the townships in the Soweto complex, and it is, in fact, difficult for the newcomer to learn where one ends and another begins. However, there is the suggestion that a tendency already exists for cognitive and social interactional boundaries to establish themselves. . u u

Summary and Conclusions

This chapter has focused on the criteria employed and evaluations made by members of the social elite to determine their social equals. These evaluations, as we shall see again in the following chapter, establish social boundaries within which are contained most of their leisure-time friend- ship ties and activities.

The social elite themselves set the standards, make the assessments, and can be inclusive or exclusive as it suits them. Hence their assessments have been of central interest in the context of friendship. But it must be stressed that if a continuity of at least some, if not all, of these values did not exist within the general township population, the persons regarded as social elite would not be the trend-setters they are, nor would attempts at manipu- lation of prestige (scuttling) be as widespread as they are

There is a saying at Soweto that "the biggest people do not always have the biggest houses." The results shown in Table 8 appear to confirm this. In other words, in evaluations Soweto residents take into account a combination of criteria, some weighing more heavily in some cases than in others. Their point is the one stressed in this chapter--that there is no absolute scale or measure by which, once one has attained a certain level of income, education, occupation, housing, etc., one is admitted automatically to TABLE 8

HOUSE TYPE AND TENURE

Homes Owned or Being Purchased

Pr i vatel y bu i 1 t 10 Rented by other than owner (1)

8 Muni c i pal 1 y bu i 1 1

Homes Rented from Municipality

Altered at occupant's own expense 11

Unaltered 0 Houses*Total * 29

*This total includes the homes of 23 social elite couples, four males and two females who are household heads but who are widowed, separated, divorced, or never married. the activities and approbation of the social elite. The

inseparability of these numerous criteria, coupled with the of ten- negl ected facts of individuals' personal compat-

ibility, makes any judgment of the overall primacy of one or two of the criteria a misrepresentation of reality.

To be sure, moving in social elite circles, which

implies meeting the reciprocal obligations involved, is

rather expensive. As will be seen in more detail later,

attending the "right" functions properly attired, having

the physical mobility provided by a personal motorcar,

holiday travel to Lesotho, Botswana, Swaziland, or distant

South African cities, and the giving of impromptu parties

require attainment of a certain minimum level of the

various criteria. To use the analogy of a restricted

poker game, moving in elite circles requires a certain

level to "ante up," and this "ante" is necessary for the

scuttler to have a chance of success.

But lower limits (the "ante") are not strictly

definable for any single criterion. In order to see how

this works, let us take three hypothetical families of

the same size at roughly the same stage of the family

developmental cycle. Each family has an income of $Y.

Family one may set its priorities such that X amount is

spent for social activities (some or all of which may in-

volve scuttling). In the instance of this first family,

X amount spent will not be sufficient, due to insufficient

e 1 criteria, due to pr e s t i g -ca p i ta accrued on other inefficient or unsuccessful manipulation of prestige-capital, or due to a lack of special visibility. Family two may be able, on the same income of $Y, not only to scuttle, but

to "make it" and "move up" if they are prepared to commit more of their income, say 1.5X for social activities, in an

attempt to move in the "right" circles. But the mere

committment ("ante") of a greater percent of their income

does not assure success; it may only enable staying in the

game a while longer. By contrast Family three may be able

to scuttle and "make it" by expending only .75X for social

activities, by virtue of special regard on some or other

of the attributes discussed in this chapter. Some members

of this family may also be especially skillful at playing

the game, and hence are able to better exploit the pres-

tige-potential of a given situation or event.

Each criterion, then, is juxtaposed to and interlocked

with the other criteria. But skillful manipulation can

bring special visibility or can magnify the importance of

one or two criteria where one's strengths lie. A person

viewed as uneducated and ill-mannered must be very rich

to scuttle (cf. Chapters Eight, Nine, and Ten), and may

or may not do so successfully. Whereas a relatively less

well-off person may scuttle and "make it," by virtue of

possessing high educational qualifications obtained abroad

and/or by virtue of a very prestigious occupation which

through skill at playing the game can be parlayed into

even more prestige-capital, One criterion taken alone is 162

a poor guideline indeed, i.e. "the biggest people don't

always have the biggest houses."

Hence, what is needed is a model that will take

account of the socially defined prestige-capital accrued

on all criteria. In other words, a model which represents

the dynamic interplay of objective and subjective evalua-

tions. What is important is that the model represents

the ways in which social capital can be gained or lost

through the adjudged appropriateness or congruency of a

person's life-style with what is known of his or her stand-

ing on various of the desirable traits which have been

discussed above. It is this evaluation (and its result,

the adjudged appropriateness) plus attempts--successful or

unsuccessful --at manipulation which lie at the core of

residents' interaction. Scuttling is the term used by some

residents and this researcher to represent and comprehend

this dynamic reality of everyday life as well as to pro-

vide an understanding of special events as they are set

within the culture of inequality of the townships. The

following chapter will examine the role of ethnicity in

this culture of inequality. CHAPTER SEVEN

THE SOCIAL MOSAIC: ETHNICITY

Ethnicity has usually been thought of as one of the primary princples organizing social interaction among

Africans. Ethnicity, we are told (Gluckman 1960:55), be- came important precisely as Africans came to live in heterogeneous towns. Ethnic identity implies a series of constraints on the kinds of roles an individual is allowed to play, and the partners who may be chosen for different kinds of transactions.

This chapter examines four types of transactions in order to assess the importance of the ethnic factor in organizing social interaction among urban Africans in South

Africa.^ The four transactions are: (1) friendship;

(2) marriage; (3) residence; and (4) politics. The first transaction is especially amenable to social network analysis.

I nf orma t i on on these transactions was gathered from a respondent sample at Soweto. It is essential to note that no upper or lower limit was arbitrarily set in advance as a requisite for elite membership; instead, every effort was made to assure that persons were included in the re- spondent sample who conformed to what other urban Africans thought of as an elite. The term "elite" is nearly as seldom used by residents as the term'tlass." Residents used various descriptions for those persons of lesser or greater social standing than themselves. Elite is applied I b4

Friendship Transaction

One way of examining whether ethnic status is a primary organizing factor in African social relationships is to

examine specific transactions with the use of social network

techniques. The first such transaction is that of friend-

ship. During my fieldwork in the African township I was

able to observe and gather information on the links that

existed, as well as their content. These links are repre-

sented in matrix form in the tables dealing with the friend-

ship transactions in this chapter. For purposes of con-

sistency and easy reference, the matrices are constructed

so that the friends who share a common ethnic grouping are

arrayed together, followed by the friends who are of a

different ethnic group. Looking at Table 9 as an example,

we see that it represents the personal social network of

Dr. Mafoko who is designated as X°.

Two of his friends are also Xhosa, and they are

designated as X^ and X^. This construction in no way

indicates a ranked order of friends. In other words, the

two best friends of X° are not necessarily X^ and X^. In

fact best friend in this example is Dr. Kumalo, who is

designated as V^. In all the network matrices presented in

this chapter this is the case, i.e. no ranked order of

friends is represented by the superscripts or by the

by the present author and a few residents as a consistent shorthand to refer to those at the "top of the heap" who recognize their commonalities and interact accordingly. )

TABLE 9

FRIENDSHIP TRANSACTION X PERSONAL SOCIAL NETWORK OF DR. MAFOKO ( °

* doctor*Medical x° Network 96.4 percent

Medical doctor x^ X'

Marketing/sales x^ / x^ X = Xhosa / / V Medical doctor V = Venda

s' / / / s' Businessman S = Sotho

s^ / / / / S^ Bus i nessman

Lawyer s^ / / / / / S^

s'* / / S'* r 1 p r k / / /

Ethnic Breakdown

3 Xhosa -(including ego) Same ethnic group

1 Venda /Different ethnic group 4 Sotho '

*A 1963 University of South Africa survey (Radel et al. showed the following percentage distributions of these occupations among Africans in the Soweto townships.

Professional and technical 1.8 % Proprietor and manager 4.7 % Administrative and clerical 3.9 %

Network density in this, and the three following tables, has been rounded to the nearest percent. sequence in which ethnic group membership is arrayed.

Furthermore, what is to be noted in the four matrices is the total number of same-ethnic-group friends as opposed to different-ethnic-group friends. This comparison will yield

an indication of whether or not i ntra -Af r i can ethnic group membership is a primary organizing principle in the choice

of friends. The matrix presentation allows for ease in

determining who knows whom, who participates in reciproci-

ties, and how connected the total network is. The content

of the friendship network links of any given individual

cannot be represented but will be discussed below.

Density is a measure of network connectedness, i.e.

the extent to which members of ego's network know each

other. It is measured by dividing the number of possible

total links in a network into the actual number of links.

For the entire network, density is computed by applying

the formula 200 a (Mitchell 1969:18) where a refers to n (n-1)

the actual number of links, and n^ to the total number of

persons involved including ego. It has been pointed out

(Pendleton 1974:121), that networks with high densities

(over 80 percent) are more typical of rural areas and imply

that most people in the network know each other. Densities

under about 40 percent are more generally typical of urban

situations and imply that few people in the network know

each other.

While at first glance, a density of 96,4percent (the

maximum recorded during the Soweto research) in the network shown in Table 9 may appear unusually high for an urban area, there are several explanatory factors. The relatively small numbers of social elite in African townships influence the chances that many of these persons will know and have links with others of similar position. In other words, as

Mitchell (1969:42) has illustrated, social position influ-

ences the composition of the network. As my research has

shown, social position influences density of the network of

a given individual. As we shall see in the three following

friendship transactions, larger social networks analyzed

consistently show densities of at least 69 percent. Further-

more, not only are the relatively small numbers of educated

or well-off persons an important factor in high density,

but the normal expectation would be that, of this small

number, an even smaller number would be personally com-

patible or share significant common interests.

Examining the ethnic breakdown of Doctor Mafoko's

network, we see that it includes members of his ethnic

group, and a total of five outside his ethnic group. How-

ever, when occupation is considered, we find that four

members (50 percent) of the network are professionals.

This latter fact gains greater significance when we recall

that of the total African population sampled at Soweto, only

1.8 percent were professionals.

But more important than who is in touch with whom,

is the content of links such as those shown. The kinds

of cooperation and assistance, for example, which pass along the links are essential to understand. In one instance

Dr. Mafoko, through a series of complex circumstances, found himself without consulting rooms, and hence could not continue his normal medical practice. Eventually Dr. Kumalo

(V^) lent assistance and provided consulting rooms in a township building next to his own rooms. In addition the two doctors and their wives see each other socially at least three times a month and usually even more often. The businessman designated drops in whenever he is passing the Mafoko home; and will always be there on Wednesday after- noon to keep a golf date, have a few drinks, and a chat.

S^'s house, being more spacious and somewhat more fashionable in a more exclusive area of the township, has also been used for parties that would normally have been held at Doctor

Mafoko ' s house.

Table 10, which represents the personal social network of a male Tswana personnel officer (T°), includes not only a larger variety of occupations among his friends, but also members of five ethinic groups. This social network represents an intermediate size of those collected, recorded, and checked at Soweto. However, as can be seen by using the three occupational categories already presented in Table 9 above, every occupation listed in the friendship network in Table 10 falls within one of the three categories. The

' density of this social network (84 . 6 percent ) is still high for an urban area. Partially due to the fact that until very recently T° worked in the same personnel office withZ^, TABLE 10

FRIENDSHIP TRANSACTION PERSONAL SOCIAL NETWORK OF A MALE TSWANA PERSONNEL OFFICER (T°)

Personnel Officer T° Network Density 84.6 percent Principal T*

Teacher T2 Key : Clerk T3 £_ T = Tswana Medical Doctor T" / Sh = Shangaan S = Sotho Sales/Marketing T5 / T5 V = Venda Sal es/Marketi ng Sh' / / / Sh Z = Zulu

Busi nessman Sh2 T / / y Sif Lecturer S^ T_ / / / y / Laboratory Assistant S2 yy y y ~/ / / / / Bank Teller S^ / il / / Editor S^ / / / yy / / S'* Reporter VI ~7_ / y / y / / / Personnel Officer V / / y / y / y y y / /

Ethnic Breakdown

6 Tswa na— ( i nc 1 ud i ng ego) Same ethnic group 2 Shangaan 4 Sotho Different 1 Venda ethnic group 1 Zulu 170

and to the fact that during that time they shared lifts in

each other's cars, T° still counts as his best friend,

and sees him socially at least once during the course of

a normal week.

As we have already seen in the introduction to Part

II, there are African women at Soweto who are not married

and who occupy elite standing in their own right. In

Table 11, the personal social network of Miss Velelo is

represented using the same matrix presentation. As can be

seen from the table. Miss Velelo's job places her within

one of the three top occupational categories we have used

earlier. Since she is not married, it is not surprising to

find that of her ten listed friends, three are single, one

is divorced, and another is a widow. So that of her ten

total friends arrayed on the matrix, half are living as

single women. What is perhaps more notable in the context of African society is that the other five friends listed are married women, and sometimes it is the case that Miss

Velelo attends private parties and events where her married

female friends are accompanied by their spouses. Miss

Velelo's best friend is Mrs. Mafoko.

Again we see a pattern similar to that shown in Tables

9 and 10. Namely that a larger number of Miss Velelo's friends come from ethnic groups other than her own, than come from the same ethnic group, i.e. Zulu. Once again a fairly high density is notable, and for reasons which are not dissimilar to those already elaborated for the 171

TABLE 11

PERSONAL SOCIAL NETWORK OF MISS VELELO (Z°)

Manager (single) z° Network density 09 7 Housewife (husband MD.) V

Press reporter (single) z^ / Z^

L Z.U 1 U Housewife (husband MD.) / / S^ S Sotho

Nurse (husband MD.) / / / s" V Venda

Hairdresser (husband / / / / S^ deceased) Teacher (husband sales) s'* / / / / S'*

Model (single) X' / / / / / X'

Marketing (divorced) x^ / / / / / / X^

Business (husband T^ / / / / / / / / T^ business) Actress (single) r / / / / / / / / V'

Ethnic Breakdown

3 Zulu — (including ego) Same ethnic group

4 Sotho

2 Xhosa Different ethnic group 1 Tswana

1 Venda .

earlier matrices showing friendship transactions. Members of a small social elite, and an even smaller number who share common interests and personal compatibility, make it under- standable why the densities are in general higher than those usually thought characteristic of urban areas. This should be an even more important factor in the friendships of single women, since they are comparatively even less numerous among the social elite than the elite are within the total township social scene. In the case of Miss Velelo the network density is 92.7 percent.

The content of the links shown on the matrix is important. These women share social activities such as shopping for clothing, advice on personal matters, lifts to town, and on occasion they obtain invitations for one another to an especially desirable party. If no invita- tions have been issued. Miss Velelo may bring along to a particular party several of her friends who will be welcome since they enter with her, and they will no doubt know some of the other guests once they are inside. This is one aspect of scuttling, i.e. being seen at the "right parties" with the "right people," where friendship links can be

util i zed

The personal social network of a male Sotho businessman

(S°) is represented in Table 12. Note that it is larger and somewhat less dense than the networks of the two men and one woman already reviewed. Larger social elite net- works may encompass a larger number of ethnic groups. — — — — t— — —

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but this is not necessarily the case as shown by Tables

10, 11, and 12. Each table contains members of five ethnic groups. The network represented in Table 12 appears to be characterized by more job diversity, but if the occu- pational categories used previously are again applied, we find such job diversity subsumed within the same three categories:

(1) Professional and technical; (2) Proprietor and manager; and (3) Administrative and clerical.

It would appear, from these four tables, which typify the social networks collected, that exclusivity of leisure-time association is not based on the criterion of shared ethnic group membership. Since occupation subsumes to some extent education, income, life-style, and common interests, it is not accurate to state that occupation alone acts as a limiting factor in social interaction. But it is fair to state that common occupational category is an indicator of the boundaries of social interaction among members of the social elite at Soweto.

The density of S°'s network is still higher than might be expected in an urban area, and the ethnic break- down in Table 12 shows that of S°'s 21 friends only 6 belong to the same ethnic group as he. The importance of achievement-based criteria (subsumed by occupational category) seems to overshadow the ascription-based criterion

(represented by exclusivity of ethnic group within social

networks ) I / 0

No social elite network collected, recorded, and checked during the course of Soweto research showed the reverse case where common ethnic group membership (the ascriptive

criterion) was more important i nteractional 1 y than the

achievement-based criteria subsumed by occupation. This

indicates that verbal statements made by respondents re-

garding the importance of common interests, occupation, and

other criteria discussed in the previous chapter are

validated in actual social behavior and choices.

In addition the minimum network density noted was

69 percent, while the maximum density was 95 percent.

Specifically the relatively high densities in the urban area

suggest that social boundaries have been and are being

established through fairly consistent interaction patterns.

The consistency of these patterns is suggested by the

relatively high number of persons in a given network who

know each other.

This special and notable composition of the elite's

social networks has been mentioned by Boswell (1975:173)

whose work in Zambia confirms that network members were

selected from within bounds derived from their common

education, socio-economic status, or place of residence

(and not from shared ethnic group membership). In two

elite neighborhoods of Salisbury, Rhodesia, Kileff (1975;

86) noted what he called a "blurring of tribal identity"

among the elite in their choice of friends, i.e. friends

were from work, school, church, or neighborhood. He 176

stated that "tribal ties are of secondary importance." In my earlier research in Kwa Mashu, I noted the tendency for women of special socio-economic status to choose member-

ship in certain types of voluntary associations (Keirn

1970:38). Ethnic links were usually secondary to those of

socio-economic status. Both Lloyd (1967:146) and Jacobson

(1973:88) have indicated that elite Africans do not con-

sider "tribal identity" to be a criterion of social equal-

ity and it was not a significant factor in the friendships

of their respondents.

Common interests, occupation, education, and the

remainder of such factors discussed here, underlie the

culture of inequality which is elaborated through the

actions and assessments of people. These criteria are

important in establ i shi ng social boundaries. Ignoring them

can lead to broad misleading statements which purport to

characterize the "entire urban African population." We are

told, for example, that the latter population "tends to

retain the traditional orientation of particularism-

ascription, while the Europeans live more in terms of the

modern pattern of uni versal i sm-achievement" (Miner 1967:14).

The pitfalls of such a perspective have been discussed by

several authors (Keirn 1972; Kuper 1965; and Mafeje 1971)

Such a perspective overlooks other criteria of intra-

African social relations which may be considered as signif-

icant by some actors involved as the ethnic criterion may 177

be for others. Furthermore, unless African towns are studied as structures in their own right, analysts may be misled

into perceiving:

townsmen as creatures of antecedent custom, and thus to underestimate the flexibility of the relationship to custom, the capacity of persons to use different cultural idioms in different social contexts and the role of human creativity (Kuper 1967:128).

Marriage Transaction

Turning from the networks of the elite to an analysis

of their choice of marital partners, we can see from Table

13 that again the basis of the social transaction under con-

sideration is not to be found by a consideration of ethnic

group membership. With the male and female partners repre-

sented on the axes by their ethnic group as in Table 13, we should expect that, if ethnic group were the primary

organizing principle, the great bulk of marriages would fall

into the shaded cells, i.e. both partners belonging to the

same ethnic group. This is clearly not the case. In fact

only six of the 23 couples fall within the shaded cells,

i.e. are married within their respective ethnic group as

Table 13 indicates. In the respondent sample 74 percent

of marriages are between different ethnic groups, while

two of the wives fall outside the officially designated

African category because they are officially classified as

Coloured. In this transact ion--marri age--the primary

organizing principle among the social elite appears to be 1 78

elite.

as

residents

by

viewed

cases,

TRANSACTION

all

in

vjere, MARRIAGE

spouses

both

sample

respondent

my

*In . "

other ethnic status. Table 14 displays the same 23 couples arrayed according to the number of years of education of male and female partners. Here it is clear that, whatever other factors may be subsumed under education, this criterion in the selection of a marriage partner is much more meaningful than common ethnic group membership in understanding the basis on which transaction was made.

My findings in this regard are confirmed by

Brandel-Syrier's research conducted in the 1960's in South

Africa. Her study of an African elite showed that almost

r- 1 ' 60 percent of their marriages were " i n te ' t r i ba

(1971:85). Another interesting sign of changing patterns

is that among the elite she studied, almost 60 percent of the marriages were between partners who had the same origin with regard to the rural-urban component. She describes

c the number of same-et hn i -grou p marriages as "small" (40 percent), but the number of same-origin marriages as

" 1 arge" ( 60 percent )

Thus far we have examined two transactions, friend-

ship and marriage, which are much less subject to the

external determinants which uphold the system of apartheid

and which impinge on the lives of Black South Africans.

The final two transactions to be considered here, neighbor-

hood and such political representation as exists, are

clearly tied to such determinants, and will be seen to

reflect a different focus on ethnic group membership. . 180

TABLE 14

MARRIAGE TRANSACTION YEARS OF EDUCATION: MALE AND FEMALE SPOUSES

Females with : Males With 0 - T1 Tz or More*

0 - 11 0 0

12 or More* 4 1 9

23 Social Elite Couples

*A 1970 survey of 302 households (1,530 persons: 699, 831 female) in Soweto and one other Johannesburg township-complex showed that 0.14 percent of males in the sample and 0.96 percent of females in the sample had received 12 or more years of education. The survey represented a 0.26 percent random sample of households in both townships (calculated from Nel et al . 1971:22-23). The reader will note dis- crepancies between these figures and those shown in Table 7. These discrepancies in survey figures have been discussed there I 0 I

Nei qhbor hood

It will be recalled that since 1955 residents of the

African township-complex have been allocated houses on the basis of their ethnic group membership in three overall official divisions: (1) Nguni-which comprises Zulu, Xhosa,

Swazi, and Ndebele; (2) Sotho-which comprises Southern

Sotho, Northern Sotho, and Tswana; and (3) Venda-which comprises Venda, Shangaan, and others. This means, essen- tially, that one does not choose one's neighbors, but rather is assigned to a house based on ethnic group member- ship. Assignment to a house by officials was the case even prior to the introduction of the 1955 ethnic criterion.

Hence whether or not African residents of the township view ethnic status as relevant, it is a category imposed by the external determinants of the White-minority government.

In fact indications are that, contrary to government edict, residents do not wish to be housed primarily on the principle of ethnic grouping. A study done in 1970 among a random sample of 200 high school seniors in Soweto showed that 88 percent would prefer for the township to be undivided into "tribal" areas (Edelstein 1972:113). As we

have already seen, my respondents were united in their overwhelming opposition to urban residential ethnic group-

ing. Many supported their responses with discussion, emphatic and lengthy, affirming the oneness of the African

people in South Africa. The 1970 high school study showed I iid.

that 88.5 percent of the students said that "Black South

Africans should form one nation irrespective of 'tribal' origin" (Edelstein 1972:113).

Since schooling is neither free nor compulsory for

Africans in South Africa, it might be argued that the

students in the 1970 sample, like the social elite among my

research set, are not representative of the total African

population. But the students and the social elite can be

indicators of trends (Nadel 1956:424). Furthermore, a

1966 survey of the entire township including representa-

tives of various socio-economic levels showed 83 percent of

the respondents against ethnic grouping (Hellmann 1971:21).

Such ethnic grouping found no greater support in a

mono-ethnic area of the township-complex (where it might

have been expected to be more popular), than in a mixed

township. More recently, strong opposition to ethnic group-

ing was also expressed by an African journalist, writing

under the name Sidzumo in his column "Window on the

Townships" which appears in one of the main Johannesburg

English-language newspapers ("Star," October 4, 1973).

Pol i t i c s

Wherever external governmental determinants enter the

picture, African social action is channelled along ethnic

lines. The final transaction, that of politics in its

extremely limited legal form, once again demonstrates this

same point. Again a short background will be useful. 183

Political parties as such among Africans have been banned for well over a decade. Urban-dwelling Africans have as their only platform an intercalary body of urban African representatives, the Urban Bantu Council, chosen, according to the structure set up by the government, along ethnic lines.

One thing can be said for membership in the UBC--it provides a platform not otherwise available for the airing of opinions and grievances, and provides an arena in which members, who wish to do so, may demonstrate their skill at English oratory and parliamentary procedural debate.

However, for some members these latter are not meaningful, and during my stay at least two male members whom I knew resigned in utter frustration and disgust. Others have used their platform as best they can within the narrowly circum- scribed limits in order to effect minor concessions.

Many a speaker in the council chambers has bemoaned the fact that, "As a Zulu, I can officially speak only for

the Zulus of the township, but I believe that my colleagues will agree that we are all one Black nation which seeks the basic rights to own the land on which our houses stand, to sell our labor on the open market, and to be granted wider opportunities for trade in the urban areas." These latter three interests strongly unite people over and above intra-African ethnic concerns.

Both with regard to policies affecting urban African

township residents and with regard to the "Bantustan" or 184

"Homeland" policy of the present government, many Africans feel that attempts should be made to seek and maximize any advantage that may be gained through existing channels, i.e. use any available platform.^

We have seen how when external determinants channel

general social action along ethnic lines, as in residence

and political representation, a powerl ess-Af ri can majority

can maneuver openly only within these ground rules. When

these external determinants do not come into play directly,

as in friendship networks or in the choice of a spouse,

the primary organizing principles appear to be grounded in

very different criteria. These criteria are based upon

more universal i Stic evaluations generally associated with

achievement.

In 1970 when asked if "'tribal identity' should be

preserved by law," only 10 percent of the high school

students surveyed said it should. When asked if "'tribal

identity' should be preserved," 33 percent said yes; and

saw no contradiction with their wider pride in being

Black--a pride expressed by 96.5 percent of the respondents

(Edelstein 1972:113). This pride in "being Black in the

world" and an increasing analysis and articulation of Black

consciousness was one of the outstanding characteristics of

^Another more radical view is that participation, especially on the part of certain African leaders, lends credibility to the "Homelands" policy of the present govern- ment; and that the only solution is total rejection of the policy, by total non-participation. f 185

the social elite who comprised my research set. One

respondent, a personnel officer for a large international corporation, spoke for many others when he said:

Whether you want to ignore the Bantustan concept or not, it impinges on your daily life. Once you are an official represen- tative or once there is any link with authority --and that is unavoidable-- their ethnic grouping becomes important since their system structures it that way. But when we are among ourselves there is intermingling of human beings--no real emphasis on 'tribalism.'

Earlier Epstein (1958) in his work on the Copperbelt of Zambia suggested that some Africans in urban areas could reject "tribalism" as being irrelevant to their problems.

Recently a Black South African social scientist has cogen- tly argued that the continued emphasis on "tribe" by observers stems from an insidious pervasive ideology o

"tribalism" which obscures and over-simplifies the "real nature of economic and power relations between Africans themselves and between Africa and the capitalist world"

(Mafeje 1971:261). With the application of broader frames of analysis, recent researchers have noted that for

Africans, daily leisure-time interaction or evaluations of their fellows, "tribe" is not the central criterion it once was or was once thought to be (cf. Boswell 1975; du Toit

1975b; Jacobson 1973; Keirn 1975; Kileff 1975; Mafeje 1971;

Vilakazi 1975, personal communication).

What is certain is that the ideology of "tribalism" is a cornerstone of present South African government policy. However, from the data presented here, it is doubtful whether urban Africans, and social elite in particular, accept

"tribalism" or ethnic grouping as a relevant category for organizing their lives and dealing with their problems.^

Some of the events and the expertise presented in the follow-

ing two chapters give expression to the emerging ideal of

Black unity and Black consciousness--the ideal of the one- ness of the African people in South Africa.

^cf. also Manganyi's discussion (1973:20-24) of the considerations which militate against the significance of such groupings which are not relevant in the age of power

p 0 1 i t i c s . CHAPTER EIGHT

THE SOCIAL MOSAIC: EXPERTISE

As in other societies, so it is at Soweto, that if we listen carefully to the mood or the metaphor created by its musicians, artists, and poets, we will gain a sense of what

it means to be a part of this social mosaic. Some of the facets of the social mosaic can be illuminated if we watch, listen, and observe such seemingly diverse aspects and

situations as are included in the present chapter. It will

be recalled that "show people" are sometimes included in social elite circles, not so much because they have obtained high standing on some of the criteria already discussed, but because of their own unique and creative blend of expertise.

They have achieved something out of the realm of the ordinary, and hence many have also become highly visible to other residents through the press or through their partici- pation in various events in such spheres as those to be described in this chapter. Some are in demand at the

fashionabl e parti es , others have been assisted in one or another way by some of the people we have already met in

this second part of the present study. An examination of

their expertise and the expertise of others in the context

of the occasions and situations in which such expertise

187 188

is used, can offer insights into the ways various experts gain high visibility, parlay this into prestige-capital, and at the same time express and distill facets of the social mosaic which otherwise remain outside the realm of our understanding. The areas of expertise to be discussed below reveal the interests and orientations of some of the people within the social mosaic. The creators and experts themselves describe and express a world of which they are a part in a language that is sometimes subtle and sometimes direct. Through their participation and their actions, they reveal how the culture of inequality is put into play through what we have termed scuttling. They also reveal more fully the central values of the society of which they are a part, indicating from an inside perspective what it means to be an urban Black South African.

Music

Musicians, playwrights, actors and actresses, poets and their productions express the overseas or international orientation of some Black South Africans, while many also

distill the essence of i s i Ntu , Black pride. Especially in

Black Johannesburg, their presence and that of their predecessors forms a continuity with events of the recent

Black past and an orientation toward the future in which

Black South Africans continue to seek and articulate their unity as one Black nation. As one reviewer of a musical production ZZZIP! remarked, "You're a Black man, before you're a Xhosa" (S'ketsh' 1973:26), 189

Jazz festivals, like Soundpower, held at Soweto's

Jabulani Amphitheater, exemplify popular music at its best.

From Soundpower comes a brief capsule history, familiar to many Black musicians and music buffs, showing how music has changed and continues to change along with the interests and orientation of its public.

At long last it looks as though we're beginning to make our presence felt again overseas as musicians. After King Kong [a famous Black production that 'made it big' abroad] died, our influence on seemed to die as well, and for long years the only South African musician with any standing was the Queen, Mirriam Makeba. Then Jazz Epistle brought Dollar Brand and Hugh Masakela to maturity and they began to make their influence felt in America.

Although many of our best musicians were in Britain and the States, no one ever heard of them except for letters home. Most of them were working hard--but quietly learning as much as they could, playing as often as they could, gradually building themselves up.

Back home nothing earthshaking was happen ing--except that old Sophiatown, the birthplace of so many of our best creative minds, got in the way of a herd of bull- dozers towing a new white suburb behind them, and was buried. We mourned. And we mourned even more the passing of a long succession of our jazz greats, from Todd Matshikiza to Mackay Davashe.

But the old order changeth, and maketh way for new, and a new generation of musicians with a new brand of music was coming of age. Abroad Letta Mbulo suddenly came alive, and

Dudu Phu kwana , . . . and many others started making themselves heard. And in the last year things have really started moving. Welcome Msomi's uMa batha [a version of MacBeth in Zulu with traditional dancing] rocked London, while Meropa [a dance pro- duction] rocked Japan, Jo'burg Hawk, the multiracial Afro-rock group, made a big impression on Britain and Europe before they broke up--because of money hassles, leader Dave Ornellas told me in a letter. But Julian Bahula, Hawk's Malombo drummer, stayed on. Lucky Ranku joined him there, and they formed a new group called Jabula, Great things are expected of them. The grapevine says they want to tour South Africa soon, incidentally.

The Malombos themselves are making tremen- dous inroads into the American scene. Even

the voice of [' mi el i e-meal music,' popular in the townships] has been heard abroad. Gallo released a record of West Nkosi's in Europe and America, and it got onto the American hit parade. West and his group were filmed playing the number for Stateside television.

The tide is finally turning. Take a look at the world music scene. What's happening? Damn little. But we're going from strength to strength here. Our achievements in the last year or two have been little but a flexing of our muscles. We've hardly started. Think about it: if anyone anywhere has some- thing big to offer, it's us. The next big swing in music, the next trend to sweep the world, must come from us--FR0M OUR PEOPLE, OUR TRADITIONS, OUR ROOTS, OUR SOUL (Soundpower, Jazz Festival Program, May 23, 1974:2 emphasis my own).

The musicians who performed at the Soundpower Jazz

Festival, their attire, and that of the spectators in the crowded amphitheater indicate some of the new directions, as well as a continuity with the past. Several of the performers are shown on stage in Plate 1. The atmosphere was that of a day-long picnic with the uniform of the day being either casual wear, blue jeans and fatigue jackets, or some version of indigenous attire combined with shirts or blouses. Cameras were everywhere and those who carried PLATE 1 -- SOUNDPOWER: MUSICIANS AT THE JAZZ FESTIVAL.

s

the Nikons were by no means all news photographers or professionals. It was a day to display "mod" attire or the fashionably eclectic version of traditional long skirts, bead work, or large earrings for women. For men, African-

print shirts ( D a s h i k i ) worn with blue jeans, casual trouser suits, or sweater vests and brightly printed fashionable shirts were typical.

People were seated in the large amphitheater in groups almost corresponding to the supporters and loyal fans of one or another performing group. Mrs. Tladi's contingent supported most enthusiastically the group of performers which included two of her sons. Since she had brought along a good supply of the stock from the "illegal bottle store" or shebeen where she makes her living, and was assisted with sales by one of her daughters-in-law, the day was a mixture of business and pleasure. As is the case on many other occasions, those attending (who had paid a $1.50 admission charge), moved about, remaining with one group long enough to have a few drinks, chat, share a joke or two, and then move off, either to return to duties or to repeat the process with another group where several other friends had been seen in the crowd. Consequently the composition of this group of spectators and the sharing of the picnic lunch prepared that morning shifted from time to time. Included were a lawyer, a medical doctor who

has not been previously introduced in this study, a teacher, a University graduate who holds a job with an international .

firm, his wife (a former teacher), Mrs. Tladi's two sons

(when they were not on stage), and friends from other of the performing groups who stopped by.

Since a number of other s hebeen -owner s had also brought their stocks with them, the usual form of convivi- ality was readily available. However, since the Soundpower show lasted from about noon until late in the evening, the supply of alcohol became increasingly scarce, and to obtain a drink became a matter of true friendship. Backstage, as one of Mrs. Tladi's sons remarked, "You dare not breathe too deeply or you get high very quickly." As the afternoon proceeded some members of the audience clapped with the music being performed or danced energetical ly in front of the seats, "grooving" on the music and the festive atmosphere

One of the groups came from Port Elizabeth, others from Natal, or from Pretoria, and the remainder from

Johannesburg. No group bills itself as exclusively Zulu,

Xhosa, Sotho, etc. Rather each group is known for a partic- ular sound. Some groups have a soul sound, other blues, still others jazz of various varieties, and still others combine these elements with a poetic and creative approach into a sound which is especially unique. As with music groups in other countries, the members of some groups play- ing together at present have been members of or have formed other groups in the past. And also as in other countries, many music buffs know the history of such shifts in personnel. Six of the nine groups playing at the Soundpower

Festival could be broadly classed as performing jazz, while, of the other three, two are what could be termed experi- mental, and one is basically soul. But these sorts of classifications would mean little to the musicians and to their audiences, so let us sample the sounds of both of the experimental groups, the soul group, and two of the jazz groups. One of the newest and most innovative sounds comes from a group that calls itself "Dashiki," an experimental group:

The drums beat out their ghostly message while a flute thrills in the background. The drummer looks up and shouts: 'This is the spirit of our forefathers!' and then he pounds out the rhythm on his African drums. 'This is Dashiki!' he shouts again, and then you're riding the crest of a wave of pure Black music like you've never heard before.... Their ap- proach is poetic, bound up with their own impressions and feelings about music and about life. And they are the first Af r ican-styl e band to use vibes in their lineup... (Soundpower Jazz Festival

Program) .

As this group's drummer, who is also an artist and sculptor, points out, "We use music to communicate with our ances- tors. We bring them near to us, and use our music to convey their messages."

Another experimental group "Batsumi" is a:

band which digs deep down within themselves to search for new material. What they find in their soul is new and exciting, and their music is unique. They find weird combinations of sound to interpret their inspirations, but the result is beautiful music. Batsumi are not to be linked with the Malombos or .

Dashiki--they are strictly themselves. Their workshop is in a backyard in Orlando West, where they practice to- gether daily and do a lot of research work. Many people haven't heard them yet, but what they've developed is going to stun lots of fans and will tear a big hole in the music scene. Their ensemble includes a spectacular dancer, June Butelezi, who interprets their music with song and wild but graceful dances called 'dances of the evil spirits' (Soundpower Jazz Festival

Program )

The "Soul Finger" demonstrate some of the "gigs" played by the various bands, and the ways in which their opportun- ities arise. In addition to playing:

great soul. ..they play a lot of other things as well--like very hot jazz, and very cool blues. Like most good musicians, they don't fit into any neat little pidgeonhole. Soul Finger are Soul Finger, and they're great, whatever they do. Their first big break came in 1970, when they landed a nightclub contract in Swaziland. They made a terrific impact there and their contract was renewed. They returned from Swaziland to make an appearance at a festival at Jabulani Amphitheatre as guest artists. The fans went wild--Soul Finger had arrived. Then when Danta, an underground band from London, touched down at Jan Smuts Airport [Johannesburg], and promoters went out looking for a supporting group, and Soul Finger were a natural for the job. During the tour they backed songstress Thandie Klaasen, and amazed the fans with their versatility. Since then, there's been no holding them back. They're all true professionals --on instrumentals and vocals (Soundpower Jazz Festival Program).

Jazz has been a part of the township scene since the days of the grandfathers of some of today's musicians. In old Sophiatown (a now-demolished area where Africans, :

Asians, and Coloured lived, and where Africans had the treasured right of freehold tenure), jazz, musicians, and clubs thrived. In those days there were venues in the city itself where clubs provided Africans with entertainment as well as the opportunity to "throw a party," or to "blow some notes" with others interested in jazz--either musi- cians or record collectors. Some of the jazz bands used to play more commonly marching through the streets for funerals than they do today. However, tribute is some- times paid to a fallen brother musician, strong supporter, or relative in the same way at Soweto today. For example, in the case of the murdered brother of two of the members of the "Jazz Preachers," several other groups were in attendence with their instruments. The "Jazz Preachers" have

been around for a long time preaching their message of pure West Coast jazz. It's good, solid, straight stuff, and they're loved for it all over South Africa. They've played in all the major centres, and they're a must in any top jazz lineup. They started off together ten years ago as the Elite Swingsters. They did well and won them- selves a lot of acclaim. Then, in 1967 they changed their name to the Jazz Preachers, and congregations have been flocking to their pulpit ever since (Soundpower Jazz Festival Program).

Johannesburg's newest jazz band is the "Cliffs," formed by "the nation's number one tenor saxman." They play their own compositions, and they cover a wide musical spectrum-- jazz, soul rock, and blues, all with a strong African influence" (Soundpower Jazz Festival Program). 198

Theater

One of Soweto's better-known playwrights, Gibson Kente, and the actors and actresses in his production, portray township life as it exists today for the great majority of residents. The performance (in English) of his recent play

"How Long?" at Mofolo Hall portrayed township characters-- the overbearing, corrupt, and slow-witted Black policeman, the shebeen-owner who stands as a sympathetic mother-figure in time of trouble, a poor family with a brilliant son forced to leave school, and the family "gogo" (aged grand- mother) whose first and last wish is that her grandson get his education. "His education" was the refrain used num- erous times by the chorus offstage in this production. The humor was mostly at the expense of the policeman who enforces in this case the White man's laws and who can be easily maneuvered.^ Pathos emerges in the fate of "gogo," in the grinding poverty, and in the effects of the maze of regulations on indivdual human lives. The music combined with the other elements to make for an entertaning and yet powerful statement asking the ultimate question "How Long?"

Because plays such as Kente's "How Long?" are presented at hired community halls in the townships (which are part of the White-administered township domain),

^The enforcers of laws, the police, seem in many cases to bear the brunt of theatrical ridicule. This is a common theme in folk art, and in South Africa the Black policeman is subject to a good deal of such abuse since he takes part in the hated passraids which are a part of the application of the influx control policy. problems can occur in obtaining a venue for productions. In

one township Kente was told by the superintendent that he

could not get a date to stage his production; in another

the superintendent first refused him a date, but after

reading the script allowed the play to be performed. During

the early months of 1974 such problems recurred until the

playwright himself flew to Cape Town to present the scripts

of two of his plays ("How Long?" and I Believe") to Mr.

J. J. Kruger, Chairman of the Board of Censors. This board

oversees the productions, books, etc. which may be seen by

all South Africans according to their officially defined

color-caste membership. As Kente said:

I have been having so much trouble that I want the board to give me a clearance. If the play is bad, it must be banned

and if it is all right, then I should not have trouble booking halls ("Sunday Times," January 27, 1974:13).

Mr. Kente added that Special Branch men had been flocking

to see "How Long?". Another playwright, Sol Rachilo, author of "Township Housewife" had, the same week, been called to the Meadowlands Security Police and questioned about his new play. Rachilo said, "I was asked about my political convictions and about men like Gibson Kente....

I told them I knew Kente as a fellow playwright" ("Sunday

Times," January 27, 1974:13).

The MDALI (Music, Drama, Arts, Literature) Black

Arts Festival, held at Soweto, demonstrates some of the difficulties inherent in the definition of Black theater 200

and in the relinkage with Black tradition. Some people

felt, as did a reviewer for "S'ketsh'" that:

It's no good talking of a theatre for the people when what you are really is a clique of the so-called 'conscientious s ' few --wi tness the ' s i tu a t i on ' . . . a s ked to organize and patronize the Mdali Festival. Get to the people, not with your assumed standards but with what they know and can identify with (Tshabangu 1973:45).

Another reviewer of the current theater scene remarked that,

"There is a vast potential audience which never goes to

plays because of the feeling that theater is something

snobbish, a little highbrow. They speak English and charge

a rand [$1.50] or more" (S'ketsh' 1973:26). Both reviewers

were pointing out that theater might reach a wider audi-

ence, but for the fact that "situations" (people like Dr.

and Mrs. Dube or Miss Velelo) have become associated with

such entertainment in the mind of the man in the street, who automatically assumes that it is too "highbrow" for

him, that it is too costly, and that his command of English might limit his comprehension.

Poetry

The MDALI. Black Arts Festival presented poetry from writers such as Baldwin, Fanon, Diop, and Serote.

The poetry was overtly political and done with the necessary anger and emotion that goes with it. The second half was much more interesting with much more relevant poetry written in Zulu. Although the poetry was badly arranged the overall 201

performance was well done and the few people in the hall were really captured (S'ketsh' 1973:43).

The reader will note that the hall contained few people as an audience, partially reflecting the accuracy of the remarks made by the two reviewers just above. Other evenings of the festival were given over to playssuch as one by a Kenyan playwright, and to jazz accompanied by

African drums. "These drums were used throughout the festival to give a beat that changed the atmosphere to nearly that of an indigenous ritual ceremony." However, the problem of defining Black theater, its specific audi- ence within the Black community, and its content has been summarized in the following observation:

...but there was very little South African blackness in this black festival. It is true that the men who wrote the poetry have the same basic problem as ours. Now we should ask ourselves just how similar are our problems and go on to ask ourselves if the problems could be solved in the same way. For all I know the American blacks are solving their problems by talking to their people in the language they under- stand. And we cannot expect our people to understand the language of the black Americans. Only the few so-called intel- lectuals will pretend to understand, but where does it get them to? This also goes for jazz music. Everybody knows the Americans are imitating the music of Africa. This is because they love the music of their ancestors and would like to identify with it. Now are we stupid enough to imitate people who are only imitating us? The Americans expect us to give the lead in everything concerning Africa and it is terribly discouraging to realise that there is very little especially in South Africa (S'ketsh' 1973:43). . . , , 202

One of the best artistic expressions of this search for a definition of Black theater, poetry, and music has been given by the Black South African poet Mtshali in the title poem from his recently published book Sounds of A Cowhide

Drum.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

I hear it far in the northern skies a rumble and a roar as of thunder.

I prick my ears like a buck ready to flee from an imminent storm.

Boom! Boom! Boom! As it rolls nearer and nearer to the southern sky it holds my heart, my hopes soaring high into the eagle's throne

Boom! Boom! Boom!

I am the drum on your dormant soul cut from the black hide of a sacrificial cow

I am the spirit of your ancestors, habitant in hallowed huts, eager to protect, forever vigilant.

Let me tell you of your precious heritage, of your glorious past trampled by the conqueror destroyed by the zeal of a missionary.

I lay bare facts for scrutinty by your searching mind, all declarations and dogmas.

0 ! Hear me , Child! in the Zulu dance shaking their hearts into a frenzy. 0 ! Hear me , Chi 1 d ! in the night vigils of black Zionists 1 lifting their spirits into ecatasy.

Boom! Boom! Boom! That is the sound of a cowhide drum-- the Voice of Mother Africa (1972:71).

Those who are involved in seeking, defining, creating, patronizing, or performing art which reflects in some way the specifically South African Black experience are in many

2 cases called "situations" in the local parlance. In other words, those who are listening for the Voice of Mother

Africa are in many cases those whose expertise and other qualities place them above and somehow distant from the average man, the "masses" with whom they seek to identify and communicate. In previous chapters we have seen some- thing of the ways in which this distance is reflected.

Entering, through poetry, the world of urban Blacks existing in a domain created and ruled by Whites is some- times shocking. Themes often reflect ghetto existence.

In one poem township dogs fight over an abandoned baby on a rubbish heap (Mtshali 1972:60), and in another we hear a mother's ode to her still-born child (Langa 1973 in

Gordimer 1973:54). Poverty, hopelessness, and powerlessness reappear as themes conveying oppression through poetry.

It will be recalled that Mkele's previously quoted remarks indicated that the Zionists were general 1 y di sparaged by the social elite. While none of my respondents were members of Zionist groups, some expressed the view that the Zionists are making their own exploration of Black theology in action. Mtshali, quoted above, expresses this same idea when he refers to their night vigils. 2 I was unable to determine from any source how people like the poets and their patrons, or other highly placed ^ 204

The life chances of the average resident of the Black ghetto in a police state are better expressed in this poetry than in demographic statistics or newspaper exposes. It has been said that, "if, in this world [of the townships created by racial domination], the poet Mtshali belongs automatically to an elite, it is the dead-end elite into which black artists and intellectuals are thrust by any col our-bar society" (Gordimer 1972:xii). The stark and real contrasts extant within Black townships like Kwa Mashu and Soweto must be explored and the remainder of this chapter deals

with other aspects of i ntra -Af r i can inequalities and how they are expressed through the use of various types of experti se .

Charity Work

Voluntary unrenumerated service, directly or indirectly of assistance to township residents, will here be dis- tinguished from voluntary membership in various of the mutual aid societies or the strictly social clubs. These

persons, came to be described as "situations." It is possible that the term may derive from the classified advertising section of newspapers where under "Situations Wanted" advertisers seek jobs that fit their described qual ifications. ^By this juncture the reader will realize that some of those living in abject poverty in the townships can never hope to scuttle, let alone "make it" successfully. But others, perhaps relatively a bit better off, do try to imitate, within their means, some of the display and some of the interests of the elite. They are attempting to scuttle and to show that they are aware of "how things are done properly." Two instances of this type will be detailed in Chapters Nine and Ten in order to clarify how 205

latter two have their important place in the townships and may involve non-elite and elite residents. However, they have been discussed in some detail elsewhere (duToit 1969;

Hell man 1973 ; Keirn 1970; Little 1962, 1965). What is of central interest at present is the involvement of some

- elite residents in charity or welfare orga n i zat i ons - some with ties to similar purpose organizations in the White community, and others founded and organized by Blacks.

Involvement in such organizations allows for the use of expertise, i.e. by participation expertise can be displayed.

In addition to the obvious benefits of assisting those less fortunate, such a display of expertise can assist an individual in accruing prestige-capital. In some cases,

too , po s i t i on s in such organizations can lend a modicum of power and influence.

For example one long-established bursary fund, now with strong support from a prominent English-language news- paper, was founded by a Black who is presently a school principal. Committee membership of such a body, and certainly founding it, raises social standing and places people in a position to offer or withhold scarce desirable commodities. Another old organization, now spread through- out many of the major centers of South Africa, also deals with the ever-present problem of the average person

aspiring residents attempt to imitate certain aspects of events (cf. the discussion of requisites to a "proper wedding; the instance of the dressing gown parade near the

Segone's home; and the sweet- s i xteen party given by an aspirant elite father for his daughter), 206

meeting educational expenses. As is often the case, it is run by small Black elite clique. Just prior to the recent

UBC elections in Soweto, one councillor announced plans to begin yet another organization with the same aim. Since this particular councillor has the reputation of being less learned than some of his UBC colleagues, objections, rumors and gossip about the new organization were concentrated on this fact. Duplication of effort was once again deplored and his motives were suspect by some as being oriented toward his own reelection and not to his overweaning interest in the numbers of needy school children. "If he is so concerned, why does he not throw his contacts and resources behind one of the other organizations already in operation and not seek glory at the expense of our children?" asked one prominent businessman who had no vested interest in either of the two existing funds.

Such duplication of effort is also deplored in the organizations which are primarily in the women's sphere.

Federation of such welfare organizations as exist, with each ostensibly maintaining its own name, officers, and con- stitution, is always a singularly unsuccessful endeavor.

Such federation has been tried in both research townships, so far without notable numbers of organizations flocking to join or affiliate, despite the fact that the ideal of avoiding duplication and using the strength of numbers is

widespread . 207

The strictly charitable organization which will be used here as an example of expertise must depend for support of its fund-raising events on "those in the Black community who can afford." It will be referred to as the Itumeleng

Society. The officers and active core membership totals about 16 persons, of whom 4 are male. Since the organiza- tion is one which is in fact a subcommittee of a province- wide welfare organization controlled by Whites, it has only an "honorary" treasurer. At each meeting a White observer is present, and she is a member of the same organization in her own community. This, of course, gives little actual control to Blacks in dispersal of funds contributed by township supporters, although some feedback is given by the

White observer's reports. Normally meetings are held on one Saturday afternoon each month, and these alternate with the meetings of another White-connected charity group.

However, when for some reason the alternation goes awry, about a third of the members will either arrive and leave early, or will not arrive until late due to the overlapping membership of the two charity groups. Special events such as fund-raising for the second group may also take place on the same Saturday on which a meeting of the first group is to be held and in that case attendance is poor. People like Mrs. Dube are active in both charitable organizations, while it will be remembered that Mrs. Pula's business duties usually keep her from actually attending the formal meetings on Saturdays. 208

In order to counter this disruptive problem, there

is an acute need to recruit more active members. There is

also the problem of how to attract attention and good

attendance at the various fund-raising events, as well as

how to attract more patrons (Blacks who will give monetary

support rather than active participation). There is also

the problem of explaining the how and why of working

strictly for others. The more traditional pattern included, and in many cases focused on profits or savings for members

of an organization. This is the more common sto kf el

pattern of "clubbing together" for mutual assistance of the members themselves. The ways in which these problems were discussed by the officers and executive committee of the

Itumeleng Society is typical and illustrates; (1) that the elite do differentiate themselves from others in their community, and one way of setting themselves apart is by active participation in charity work. The use of their expertise redounds to the benefit of the organization, as well as to their own prestige-gain; (2) that members exploit socially recognized differences for purposes of charity fund-raising by scheduling different events of interest to different community segments; and (3) that the elite hold overlapping memberships in different groups of similar type, i.e. they are a tiny minority, but with influence and expertise bearing no relation to their small numbers.

First, the composition of membership of this organization is characteristic. It is composed of the . 209

elite, or aspirant elite. It is not limited to one ethnic

group or even to one township-complex. Rather it includes

two core members who come to nearly every meeting from a

township about an hour away by car. The members' occupa-

tions are that of: high school principal, lawyer, business-

men, social workers, nurses, teachers, and one skilled

1 a borer

The problem of recruitment of new members, often

discussed, is hardly ever solved. It seems a problem at

least partially reflective of the new inequalities and the

exclusivity which is recognized within and outside such

groups. The image of the "educated and well-dressed" is

not one which encourages recruitment of others less well-

off who tend to feel inferior. Meetings are conducted in

English and not everyone feels secure enough in English

usage to speak out at such a meeting. One must be able, it

is often said, to keep pace by being properly attired for

these meetings. "An ordinary house frock just will not

do, and good clothing is expensive," say housewives who might be able to spare some time to help others. In order

to be concerned with, and able to spare time for, helping others, one must feel relatively comfortable in one's own

life. Many members come by personal car, without which

getting to the meeting can be difficult even though it

p is held in the town s h i -compl ex . Furthermore, Saturday afternoons are a demanding time for the ordinary housewife,

especially if she works full-time outside her home and 210

cannot afford household help. Businesspeople often feel that they cannot spare the time away from their enterprises on the especially busy weekends. Men are interested in

sports or drinking or other types of clubs on the weekend.

Funerals, weddings, christenings, and other personal events compete, too. But, by and large, the most accurate summa- tion of recruitment difficulties is that "Our people have a complex." Even though remarks like the following are often made in discussions of broadening the base of recruit- ment, this task is not easy. At a meeting of the YWCA

(whose meetings are also conducted in English), one leader urged "Next time each of you bring someone with you--even

if it is someone from Zola [a mono-ethnic township in the

"Wild West"]--we can translate." Groups such as Itumeleng and the YWCA reflect the fact that there is general recog-

nition that outsiders might well feel inferior in such a group. People are aware of the subtle social boundaries

that exist, and the members of charity organizations such

as Itumeleng are aware that the "masses" are aware,

It is primarily the social elite who feel they can

express their expertise and validate their standing by

spending available time in participation or patronage of

charity organizations. Patronage is exemplified by Mr.

and Mrs. Pula whom we met earlier. It will be recalled

that, due to other commitments, they are often not able

to attend meetings, but they do organize and donate. In

the case of a high tea to be given as a fund-raising event. Mr. and Mrs, Pula have offered to organize and to donate food, and the charity committee has only to collect money and sell tickets. Respect and prestige-capital accrue to

Mr. and Mrs. Pula for being able and willing to offer such largesse in aid of a worthy cause. During the discussion of this tea, one of the men present suggested that people should arrive by invitation only, thus emphasizing its exclusive and prestigous nature.

Socially recognized differences are exploited by charity workers who plan different events to cater for different segments of the community. One fund-raising endeavor--a cook-out--was to be held the night after a

"prestige dinner," and one member queried if this might not diminish attendance at both events. Another member re- sponded, "Please remember that those who are interested in

one event are not likely to attend the other--they ' re not the same crowd." This member was, of course, taking cognizance of the fact that "social class" is a function of participation in different types of events (Arensberg and

Kimball 1965:197). The "prestige dinner" was being planned for a Black hotel soon to open in a nearby township-complex, was to require formal attire, and carried a fairly high ticket price of admission for those to be invited.

With regard to ensuring the success of a fund-raising endeavor such as a high tea or a "prestige dinner," the importance of associating with highly placed people can be exploited. As was suggested at another meeting of this same organization by a successful young businessman:

Sell tickets at RIO [$15.00] a person-- they'll go like hotcakes. Africa likes presti ge--they want to feel they are with the Pula's. If we ask people again in three months, they'll come again--of that you can be sure.

Another member, a lawyer, supported his friend and stressed the importance of prestige, when he addressed himself to the group at large and remarked, "For something prestig-

ous, I am sure that people will travel even to Pretoria."

As we have seen above, recognition of social differences and their importance in people's activities

(a part of life-style) are useful to the elite in their fund-raising. But there is visibility and respect to be earned by the individual members of charity groups by in- vesting or exploiting talents, resources, and contacts.

Visibility earned in this way can accrue as prestige- capital. In other words people can exploit this avenue for scuttling. Favors offered must at some point in the future be repaid in some way. Let us examine briefly three cases of such individual scuttling to see how it

works. ^ In one meeting film shows were being discussed as a possible means of raising funds. One active member present offered to organize a number of films and have them

These offers and actions are no doubt made with the assistance of the disadvantaged in mind. However, prestige- capital is another important aspect of such social behavior. 213

delivered to the venues on dates that were still to be

arranged. Another regular member said she could offer the

loan of a projector for showing the films. Yet another

said he would handle publicity by notifying two newspapers

where he had contacts. These offers were made and must be made without the express expectation of repayment of any

kind by anyone--in other words, the message transmitted must

be one that says, "I am easily able to spare or arrange what

I'm offering."

Such offers may require the activation of portions of

the social network of the volunteer or some employees of

the volunteers. Such offers from charity workers confer

respect from social equals (generally other members of the organization), validate elite membership, and may provide

generalized prestige-capital as such offers and actions

become more widely known. If such work is practised widely

and consistently, one can assure that, as well as aiding

less fortunates, one remains viewed, or becomes viewed, as

part of the "right people" or "top people." As we have

already seen earlier the "right" associates are of central

importance, and by joining or controlling the "right" organizations, one can create the general impression of

being "with Pula's" a good deal more frequently than may

actually be the case. One is then successfully scuttling.

Some social immunity from the strictest evaluations

of "respectability" is conferred by occupying a position

in which one's contacts include press. White "liberals," Z I 4

access to information regarding job openings or bursaries, travel sponsorship and to members of the foreign diplomatic community. Hence expertise in charity work can be

parlayed into prestige-gain by scuttling, by maneuvering and by manipulating such links to whatever is defined as

best advantage. Those who consider themselves different from the "masses" also tend to mutually support each other's causes, at least to the extent of buying a ticket to what-

ever event is being planned, and numbers of people buy multiple tickets with no intention of actually attending.

Still others, of course, do not provide the support expected of them and certain big businessmen are generally the recipients of much criticism on this score as will be seen

in the following chapter.

Similar principles are at work in voluntary association whose aims involve other than strictly charitable aims.

Certain associations for women are viewed as "composed of the rich or the educated, you know, people like social workers, businesspeople, or doctor's wives," These include particularly the YWCA, the National Council of African

Women, and the Housewives' League.^ Not unexpectedly these

Participation and leadership in various sports organizations, or outstanding ability at popular sports like Black soccer also confer visibility. In some cases the elite are involved with these, and if the number of squabbles or the amount of press coverage are any indication, there is a good deal of jockeying for position within them. How- ever, I have no complete information on how prestige and power are manipulated within this sphere. For a brief analysis of the politics of football see Magubane's report (Kuper 1965:347-365). organizations, too, have the recruitment difficulties already alluded to in the case above. Scuttling in charity organizations or in other voluntary associations also takes place when, in competition for leadership positions,^

people normally evaluated more or less as social equals

attempt to manipulate events or opinion in such a way as

to magnify any small differences, and thus be successful over their opponent. In one case where elections were

imminent, the current and outgoing president who regarded

herself as the founder of the organization was opposed to one of the women nominated as her successor. The reasons

for her opposition can only be speculated upon, but

according to all sources, the two had until this time main-

tained at least a facade of amicability. Some suggested

that the fact that the nominee opposed by the outgoing

president had recently put up a striking and impressive

house, the rival of the president's own, may have been a

factor. In any event, through the gossip chain, it came

to the attention of the nominee that the president was

remarking consistently that the nominee's husband "was

only a salesman after all." The president was married to

a professional and her alleged statement regarding the

occupation of the nominee's husband was a clear attempt

to "bring her down." Although the nominee was subsequently

^Nyquist ( n . d .; 633-664 ) has discussed this competitive- ness in some detail and refers specifically to the search

for leadership positions ( n . d . ; 624 - 63 0 ) . Brandel -Syri er (1971:28-29) also mentions leadership positions in the same context. . 216

elected and served for two terms of office, she has since withdrawn from the organization altogether in favor of two others. She and her friends still refer to the original president derogatorily as "the lady of the big house" in return for the initial backbiting reference. In private conversation the nomineein this case refers to the original president as an "ill iterate "--a frequently used and, in this case untrue, "put down." It should be noted also that the original president does not occupy a house significantly

"bigger" or more sumptuous than that of the nominee.

Referring to the original president in this way ("lady of the big house") indicates the feeling that she was being pretentious in her original attempt to "bring down" the nominee, herself a professional, by reference to her husband's occupation and the implication that it was a

1 owl y one

In another case a member of another organization made charges in a meeting that the current chairlady was involved in mishandling of club affairs, and appropriation of a club vehicle for her personal use. In the meeting itself these charges were glossed over, but following the meeting the chairlady was accosted by the accusing member with a few of her friends, and once again the same charges were hurled at the chairlady. Widespread rumor has it that the chairlady, a university graduate, was later provoked into a shouting match with the member ending with the chairlady's striking the accusing member. This alleged act on the chairlady's part lost her considerable support and garnered her extensive criticism. "Can you imagine a whole university graduate behaving like a common woman in the

street?" If the chairlady had not been provoked to physical violence and simply ignored or responded quietly and firmly to the charges (whether true or untrue), she would have

been able to turn the situation to her own advantage through clever maneuvering. However, such direct confrontation is definitely unacceptable particularly in the case of a

highly educated woman. It did not fit the behavioral ex-

pectations of the majority of the women regarding a university graduate.

Annual general meetings involving representatives from various branches of a given organization provide an example of how dissension can be turned to advantage. People tend to cling to their positions as founder, life member of the executive committee and the like, even against the odds of constitutions which forbid these types of office to be held

in conjunction with active offices such as chairlady, vice-chair- lady, etc. When necessary, constitutions are binding and unchangeable, and in other instances, for the same actors, the same constitution "was made to be changed." The crux of the matter is that one person occupying an honorary office as well as an active office diminishes the chances of others in their attempts to scuttle, i.e. in this case to hold office. These attempts at scuttling can lead to

the rather embarassing situation where at an annual meeting what was thought of as one branch of a given organization will be represented by two presidents or two entirely different slates of officers. However, this is not an insurmounable difficulty, even if the two slates and their equally vehement supporters cannot be reconciled.

In the report for the following year it can simply be stated that "due to a rapid growth of interest and an ex- panding membership, X township or neighborhood now has two branches of organization Y."

In organizations which pride themselves on having large numbers of branches scattered throughout various areas, the problem can be turned to the credit of current national officers or original organizers.

In a situation where past successes of an office-bearer have not been especially notable in the evaluation of the public or the general membership, an officer will expend enormous time, expense, and effort to show once and for all that she can arrange an impressive and important event.

Such an event would not necessarily, and usually does not involve benefit to the less fortunate of the community.

It is designed to shower and reflect prestige on any member of the particular organization, and hence would raise not only the standing of that organization's memberhip, but

specifically the leader or leaders who are viewed as responsible for the event. Naturally in many of these cases the role of the press in creating visibility is important. Manipulation can take a number of forms, but it almost always involves an individual's social network or a portion thereof as an action set. Direct verbal or physical con- frontation is, as we have seen, considered very poor form; and this magnifies the importance of personal allies who can be called upon for favors involving social subterfuge or sabotage of an opponent, or alternately support, favors and advice. One final case of a small local branch organi- zation of a larger mother body originally founded by a

Black woman will clarify the use and importance of back- biting. After a scheduled meeting of a group whose meetings

and activities I had been following for many months, I waited with Mrs. Segone, also a member, for our husbands to collect us. This wait stretched into more than an hour after the appointed time. During this time an especially extensive and specific gossip session was developing as some of the other members, who had already departed, returned to review the turn the meeting had taken when an attempt was made to oust some of the current slate of officers regarded as

"do-nothings" by many members. "Do-nothings" were those who only wanted the position, and not the duties that accompanied it. A new election, which I had fully expected would be called during the course of the meeting itself, never occurred. While gossip and rumor whirled around the crowded living room, I suddenly grasped the important point that to have called for the election directly (confrontation) would have violated a central tenet of the accepted style of conducting such matters. . 220

Instead subtle social pressures were being used, and would continue, until resignations resulted, or (as more commonly occurs) until the "do-nothings" (two of the five total officers) withdrew by no longer attending meetings.

When this latter occurred (a process sometimes taking several months), then new officers could be elected because the "do- nothings" had demonstrated publicly their lack of interest.

At the same time this method allowed those three officers who remained in good books with the general membership not to be jettisoned with the sinking fortunes of those whose ouster was desired. The "do-nothing" officers were persons who were scuttling attempting to obtain and to fill positions they were not equipped to handle. The two officers, the

"do-nothings" were scuttling, unsuccessfully in this case.

But their ouster had to await public sanction. In the same way that public display of material goods is at the core of scuttling, so was the awaited (and encouraged) public display of non-interest necessary before the "do-nothings," who were unsuccessfully scuttling, could be properly ousted from their posts

The pressures on the "do-nothings" were indirect ones for the most part. Backbiting, as it is so commonly called, circumvents direct confrontation. This is an important feature which allows social life to run smoothly, at least on the surface. At the same time it provides an activity that can be engaged in and enjoyed, and which can reinforce common values and the exclusivity of groups (cf. Gluckman 221

1963; Paine 1967). The purpose of backbiting is clearly portrayed in the following poem copied for me by one woman active in several women's groups. It is titled

"Hush, Here They Come."

Some people get savage and bitter when to backbiters they refer, But I just purr. Yes, some people consider backbiters to be rankest of the rank.

But frankly, I prefer them to people who go around being frank. Because usually when you are backbitten behind your back you don't know about it and it doesn't leave a trace. But frankness consists of having your back bitten right to your face. And as if that weren't enough to scar you. Why you are right there in person to scotch the defamation, and if you don't happen to be able to scotch it, why where are you? Frank people are grim, but genuine backbiters are delightful to have

around , Because they are so anxious that if what they have been saying about you has reached your ears you shouldn't believe it, that they are the most amiable com- panions to be found; They will entertain you from sunset to

dawn , And cater encouragingly to all your weaknesses so that they can broadcast them lat£r on,... (author and source unknown).

Other spheres which provide the opportunity for scuttling are more congruent with indigenous African cul- tural roles. One of these is the role of diviner and healer which, when practiced with expertise, can lend visi- bility, an association with the "right people," a position of certain influence, and opportunities for travel. s ,

Spirit Mediumship

Divination through spirit mediumship is one means by which the urban African--! ong-time city dweller or recent migrant--can order experience, gain some measure of control in a daily life fraught with uncertainties and impinging

apartheid , and despite these external and seemingly un- controllable forces feel fortified, renewed and refreshed

( d u To i t 1 97 1 ) . This section examines the process of recruit-

ment to the role of i sangoma diviner (pi. i zangoma )

emphasizes the rei nterpret i ve and reintegrati ve aspects of this mediumship, and suggests that the structural inferior- ity of the African woman in the total social, political, and legal system (and within own color-caste) is an important factor in her liminality.

Such structural inferiority and liminality are often associated with ritual powers (Turner 1969:100). Often liminality is characterized by a modality of social relation-

ship termed common i ta (Turner 1969:96 et passim). The common itas modality tends to characterize the social

relationships of the i sangoma diviner and her long-standing client core during many of their impromptu meetings. The character of these relationships includes: a powerful communion of equality among marginal and structurally inferior individuals; an expressed feeling of euphoria as well as an expressed reluctance to depart from a prayer session; and marked empathy and intense one-to-one inter- action. The generation of spontaneous communi tas will 223

be viewed as one mechanism for recruitment of new

potential i zangoma from such a core group.

Once recruited, the i sangoma , who is often a married woman (Lee 1969:140), carries out her instrumental and ex- pressive communication with the ancestral spirits, relays their wishes, and for her regular clientele becomes a dynamic and influential intermediary figure in individual decision-making, in township gossip, and ongoing local

events. That the i sangoma is viewed as an auspicious member of her society is reflected in the fact that she can gain a good deal of prestige and respect, not only from the immediate client group with whom she enters into intense and frequent interaction, but also from members of the African community at large.

Although Vilakazi (1965:103) indicates that among clients consulting these ritual specialists, secrecy of their visits is important, I noted throughout my research a contradictory tendency. Those persons freely and openly consulting i zangoma represent a wide spectrum which in- cludes the ordinary "masses," as well as university stu- dents, ministers of religion with their wives and children, qualified nurses, graduate professional social workers, and wives of medical doctors. Most of these people are in varying degrees adherents of the "established" churches

(i.e. Anglican, Presbyterian, Methodist, etc.). This free and open consultation is only partially the result of the new and alternative styles of being a diviner. 224

In African society the ancestors are viewed in an

intermediary capacity between God and living human beings.

Communication with the ancestral spirits takes place in order to determine the cause of misfortune, as well as give thanks for good fortune. Such communication is facilitated by slaughtering certain animals as requested

by the ancestors.

The role of healer and intermediary between the

human and the spirit world involves, as it has always done, the drawing together of these various elements.

The role of spirit medium is congruent with, and at the same time not mutually exclusive from, the procreative role, of from an additional occupational role. For example

of the numerous i zangoma whom I knew, three were in full- time employment as qualified nurses, and one was a graduate

social worker (who was just completing her period of

initiation as an i sa ngoma . Another i sangoma had just left

her post as a high school teacher. But Nomusa, whose recruitment, mediumship, and client network provide illus- trative material here, for the past five years been devoting all her time to her calling of prophecy, healing, guidance, counseling, and preaching.^ None of these women who are

i za ngoma are childless; indeed one very successful diviner

has 11 children, while others who are in the early stages

^ It is likely that as any individual woman's practice of divination grows, she will in time leave aside additional occupations to become a full-time specialist in her calling. a 225

of the family developmental cycle, have at least one or two children.

Nomusa, like most other i zangoma , has gone through a form of u kuthwasa possession (literally, to become possessed by a spirit), a liminal state from which she has emerged as

a "new" person and has become a full-fledged i s a n g o m , serving as spirit medium as well as diviner. This emphasis on mediumship aspects rather than possession itself follows the usage of Firth (quoted in Middleton and Beattie 1969: xvii) who stresses that in mediumship the accent is on communication, i.e. the person is conceived as an inter- mediary between spirits and human beings. This communica- tion and intermediary position are of primary importance in the case of izangoma because possession is a phase in

the process becoming a full-fledged i sa ngoma . Since possession does not always result in the development of such a full-fledged diviner, this distinction is especially criticalhere.

Recruitment: Liminal ity and Structural Inferiority

Referring to the liminal state in rites of passage.

Turner points out that "the attributes of 'threshold people' are necessarily ambiguous, since this condition and these persons elude or slip through the network of classifications that normally locate states and positions in cultural space"

(1969:95). Africans, both male and female, in South

Africa's color-caste society stand in an ambiguous struc-

tural position. Their statuses and roles are primarily 226

established in relation to the expectations of the dominant

White minority. These expectations include a subservient demeanor and general pleasant acquiescence when dealing with Whites. In this situation a dynamic personality, forceful statement of a specific belief, special training and professional expertise or other similar aspects are not generally congruent with the "racial" mythology perpetuated within the White-controlled political, legal, economic and social system.

Within the African color-caste the social relationships of male and female are to a large extent characterized by superordination-subordination. The nature of this male- female relationship should be understood as an aspect of cultural continuity from the rural traditional patrilineal system. However, the expectations of an African husband regarding his wife are similar to those generally met by any African in dealing with Whites. Following this analogy, a woman with attributes or interests other than those con- gruent with traditional expectations, i.e. a woman who occupies a position not congruent with law, custom, or convention, will occupy a dual position of structural ambiguity. Hence the ambiguities which inhere in the statuses and roles of the urban Black woman can in many in- stances place her in what could be likened to the liminal state in a rite of passage. "There is a certain homology

between the 'weakness' and 'passivity' of liminality in

diachronic transitions between states and statuses, and "

the 'structural' or synchronic inferiority of certain personae, groups and social categories in political, legal, and economic systems" (Turner 1969:99).

Some of these women provide the personnel from whom are drawn the initiates (those "called") who after a period of u ku t hwa sa may become full-fledged i zangoma of a new type more congruent with segments of the communities of which they are a part. Lee (1969) has noted that women who were undergoing u ku thwa sa in rural Zululand were "shrewd, in- telligent, morally responsible, dynamic members" of their

particular community. My information on two African urban

township-complexes supports his observation. From this very fact stems the seeming paradox of some of the women's

positions. More highly educated than the average Black woman, more achievement-oriented, more highly visible than

the "masses," she is at the same time female in a tradition-

ally male-dominated society and Black in a traditionally

White-dominated society outside the township. From such

a dual position of structural inferiority she gains the

"power of the weak .

Like the other izangoma whose case histories I

gathered, Nomusa's recrui tment follows fairly closely a

stereotypic pattern outlined by Lee (1969: 134-135). In

most cases ukuthwasa possession has three distinct stages:

initial symptoms of considerable change in both physical

and mental functioning; treatment, either to "seal off"

or "bar" the spirits (Krige 1936:304), or alternately to 228

"open the ways" of the victim for the ancestors; and finally

if the "opening of the way" does take place, the person

possessed emerges as a fully qualfied member of the

i sangoma cult.

In the same year (1962) when Nomusa gave birth by

cesarean section to her first child, she begain to ex-

perience rheumatic pains all over her body when she returned

from work each afternoon. At this time, and in fact until

1967, Nomusa (who had begun, but did not complete, train-

ing as a nurse) was employed as a radio announcer. She had

become quite well known for her acting ability in several

plays, as well as broadcasting several programs such as the women's program, the children's program, hospital requests

program, and the young listener's program. During the same year, an old woman whom Nomusa had never met before came to

her home in the township and prophesied to her that she had

psychic powers. In addition to this prophecy, the old

lady prayed over water, which, when Nomusa took it, relieved

her rheumatic pains. Subsequently Nomusa was baptized by complete immersion under the supervision of the old lady and of an old man who had later come to Nomusa's residence

in a similar manner. During this baptism, Nomusa did not fear water as usual, and in addition she came out speaking

in tongues.^ This baptism by immersion served the purpose

^Here it is important to note that certain Zionist aspects (Sundkler 1961) have entered the process since the prophet or diviner stresses baptismal rites and 229

of "opening the way" for continued communication with the ancestral spirits.

However after the baptism, and after a beast was slaughtered and a feast held, Nomusa's husband and her mother expressed intense dislike of the foregoing. events.

For the next five years Nomusa felt a desperate need to withdraw from normal society, felt completely unhappy with her radio work and gradually in this liminal period her friends and neighbors turned against her.^ Her visions dur- ing this time included one in which she was on the side of a river and heard a voice saying, "You are the chosen one--you will liberate the nations."

During these five years of "torture" Nomusa was

"reluctant and afraid to give in to the spirits." Neverthe- less people came daily to her house to ask for guidance, prayers, healing, or help with their various problems.

Finally Nomusa "gave herself up to God completely, and vowed to work for him all the days of her life." She then left her job as a radio announcer, concentrated on her "heavenly assignment" and, thereafter, her friends and neighbors returned one by one for reconciliation. Thus reaggregated into her society (with the exception of one neighbor with

purification as opposed to "barring" or "sealing off" the ancestral spirits; or alternately "opening the way" for the spirits (Krige 1936:304-305). It is essential to note that for the individual actor involved the "opening of the way" is being accomplished through a different means.

^ While an altered mental functioning and altered inter- action patterns maybeareason for this loss friends, I was unable to obtain substantial information on this point. o 230

whom Nomusa remains at loggerheads, and who is, not

to coincidentally, a competing i sangoma ) , Nomusa continues receive those who are troubled by illness, bad dreams, visitations from the dead, and various kinds of misfortune.

And her reputation as an i sangoma spreads.

Mediumship: Rei nterpreti ve Methods and Materials

The confines of Nomusa's house and its fenced yard in the African township provide the spatial boundaries of what she and her clients consistently refer to as the i s i g o d 1

(the royal enclosure used by the king and his wives in traditional Zulu society). Yet her "heavenly assignment" has no confines in social space-time. Her mediumship is

between those who have passed to "the other side," i.e. the

spirit world of the ancestors ( amadl ozi ) and those persons who are still living. The ancestral spirits Vink the living with their God. This link is stressed when Nomusa prays

including the praises of the various people involved in any

consultation, her husband's clan, her own clan, and the

praises of some of the Zulu kings such as Shaka, Dingane,

and Mpande.

While anyone may consult Nomusa, with no fee involved

for such consultation, those who have then had good fortune,

have been healed, or helped in various ways offer contri-

butions. However, they may feel, or in some cases Nomusa

may reveal to clients, that they should be cleansed cleansing ( hlambulula ). On or around the time of the

ceremony a fixed fee is contributed. This ceremony "opens 1 i

231

^ the way for the will of 'God' and 'the angels'" ( ama kho s ) to be done, while at the same time protecting those who are members no matter where they may be. In this way members are "channelled" into whatever the ancestors and the spirit world may want them to do. Death, for those who have been so cleansed, is viewed as a passing "to the other side" where as members of the spirit world they will definitely be able to convey to those still alive further revelations and miracles. Prayers on any occasion at the

i s i g 0 d 0 are punctuated by Nomusa saying in a semi-ecstatic trance-like condition, "yes. Lord, yes, wonderful father," as she receives the revelations and wishes of those on the other side. In other words the neophyte in liminality

must be cleansed of the past, must be a tabula rasa , a blank slate (Turner 1969:103), on which is to be inscribed the knowledge and wisdom of the group under the ritual elder, Nomusa. Notice, too, the continuing emphasis on the Lord in combination with the ancestral spirits.

Against the far wall of Nomusa's fashionably furnished living room stands the altar which is about 12 inches high, glass-covered, with perpetually lit candles at each end.

Under the glass are pictures of the late Chief Albert

Luthuli, Chief Gatsha Buthelezi, the Pope, and Bishop Zulu of Zululand. On the floor in front of the altar is a

^Nomusa uses the word "amakhosi" to refer to the ancestral spirits (also, amad 1 oz i_), and she uses the same word "amakhosi" as equivalent to' the English "angels." 232

small square of carpet on which Nomusa kneels. When prayers are taking place, no one wears shoes, and everyone partici- pating kneels with head nearly touching the floor in a darkened room. Contributions that are not monetary are also placed on this small carpet, while surrounding the

altar are an i benge (small basket), an u khamba with a grass lid and white beads of purity around its exterior. This clay pot holds monetary contributions made by clients.

Standing beside these items are Nomusa's walking sticks, which, during the pitch of the prayers, she ususally picks up, handles and holds until prayers end. Sometimes during the course of prayers imphepo (a medicinal herb) is burned in order to "open the way" for clear understanding and communication with the ancestors. During this period, no matter how she is otherwise atti red--dressi ng gown, street

dress, or traditional i s i dwa ba (skin skirt) and beads,

Nomusa wears a shawl covering her shoulders as is customary for a married Zulu woman to show respect.

From this brief description several points are clear: that members of the "established" churches are not excluded, and are in fact encouraged to supplement their faith with regular visits, participation, and contributions to the

i s i g 0 d 1 0 ; that there are representations of both modern political movements, old established religious movements, traditional Zulu material culture and items more closely associated with either independent churches or "established" churches. The heritage of the African in South Africa has i

been literally washed away (cf. Mtshali's caustic mention of the mi ssi onari es' zeal in his poem quoted earlier). Accord- ing to Nomusa, Africans have been misled into believing that all their traditional beliefs in the powers of the ancestors are not only wrong but downright "heathen." However, note the recurring theme of the ancestors, our forebearers, in the music and poetry discussed earlier. In order to empha- size the importance of the ancestral spirits, Nomusa draws on the Bible to show how genealogies of important figures are recorded and how the elements of a world-wide ecumenical movement, as well as a blueprint for living, can be drawn from a firm belief in the ancestors and in anyone else who

has passed over to the spirit world. These spirit beings are in a position to guide, channel, and direct our lives and destinies while we are in this phase of life.

In addition to dealing with the problems already

alluded to, Nomusa blesses new possessions such as cars

and houses. This may be done exclusively with prayer,

as with holy water, or with i n t e 1 e z (medicinal charms),

the spirits direct in each case. However, because clients

move in and out of her house all day long and in many cases

far into the night, having heard of her effectiveness, but

not her methods or materials, some clients meet with rather

a diviner and prophet than they had expected.

Referring to one such case will provide an

illustration of the reintegration and reinterpretation in-

volved in Nomusa's mediumship. Clients frequently arrive for an initial consultation expecting an emphasis on divination by more traditional methods using more traditional materials, and find instead a different style. This is one such case.^ The three people who entered Nomusa's living room on this particular day were introduced to Nomusa as Mr. Ngidi, Mr. Shozi, and Miss Shozi. Nomusa asked them to please have faith in God because her prayers would not help them if they did not. Having noticed that they seemed very worried, Nomusa said that, before doing anything else, she would pray for them. During the course of her prayer, she said, "I see a house burning, great smoke, and a woman present at home. Here is this house burning down completely, but there is not one inside and thank God for that. What is the cause? The couple who stay there is not on good terms at all, the man is stubborn and the woman has visita- tions of the dead. Why is it that I see this woman married to this man? You are very recently married, why then is there this misunderstanding? If you don't allow

your wife to thwasa , you are faced with still greater danger.

This place you have come to is the fountain ( umt hombo ) of

the i zangoma , and if you want your wife to thwasa in the

form of praying I can do that here, but if you want her to go somewhere else and t hwa sa in another form you can, but thwasa she must!"

^During the events described, the researcher (who happened to be in Nomusa's kitchen when the clients arrived) remained unseen by them. The prayers carried on for a time and when Nomusa finished, she asked the three people consulting her to testify that what she was telling them was true, but they said not a word. Nomusa continued to ask, "Whose wife is this woman here who was introduced as a Miss?" Mr. Shozi finally responded that she was married to Mr. Ngidi. At this point Nomusa reprimanded Mr. Ngidi for "sending his wife away" in that he had referred to her by her maiden surname. The fact that Ngidi had not fully accepted his wife, Nomusa said, was the cause of most of these misfor- tunes. Nomusa asked again if what she had said about them was true or not, and again there was silence from everyone.

Finally Shozi said to Ngidi, "Why don't you talk, isn't this just what you came for?" Ngidi responded that he was very perplexed, and lapsed into determined silence once again.

Mrs. Ngidi (Miss Shozi) began to relate that their house had indeed burned to the ground but that they didn't know how it happended. On that day she had seen smoke and when she ran to locate its source, their house was already burning, so that no one could get inside to save any of their possessions. Hence the woman was confirming what

Nomusa had revealed during the prayer.

Nomusa suggested that the couple should come again for holy water which they could use for vomiting and for enema, and told Ngidi that his "hardheartedness" was dangerous to

him. As for Mr. Ngidi he was dumbfounded and still could 236

not utter a word. Nomusa (who later said she felt that their

faith needed strengthening) began quoting for the three

clients instances of others who had come to her on the

verge of death, but because of their faith, not in her

powers, but in God, had been cured. She told the Ngidis

that if they relied on her powers, they would not be helped

since she has no powers herself--she has only what God gives

her and shows her. Hence she advised them that people

should trust in God. Nomusa offered them a cold drink and

biscuits which they ate before departing.

Similar cases, dealing not only with Nomusa, but

i with other zangoma , indicate that some people expect to

be healed or treated by a laying on of hands, or by the

diviner throwing bones, or asking for standardized responses

from the assembled people. When Nomusa does none of these

things, then she feels she must "strengthen their faith,"

not in her psychic powers, but in the powers of those

through whom she is gifted with these powers of seeing and

communication. She views these powers as ultimately

originating with God, and views the ancestors as the

"channel of communication" through mediums like herself.

Client Network and Communities

Nomusa's spirit mediumship cannot be viewed in

isolation since she stands not only in a relationship with the ancestral spirits and God, but also in relationship to a core group of some of her longest standing clients.

This core now in addition forms a friendship group, based s. s 237

on earlier intense sharing of sacred revelations and miracles, that has in turn grown out of s ha red difficulties and pro bl ems

Within the core group centering around Nomusa are a graduate social worker married to a local high school principal, a medical doctor's wife who is a qualified nurse, a graduate social worker who is separated from her husband and currently employed full-time in a town about

50 miles away (while at the same time pursuing her master's degree in social work and currently completing her thwa sa phase), and the latter's younger sister, a qualified nurse employed locally and married to a medical doctor based in a city some 400 miles away. In comparison with the average woman in the Black townships of South Africa, women in the core group associated with Nomusa are of unusual standing in their communities due either to their spouses' endeavors, to their own or to both. Still, despite their position of pre-eminence within the African color-caste, they are

Black in a White-minority dominated larger society, and they are female in a strongly male-dominated African society.

Limited outlets do exist for their personal talents and achievements, but at the same time they are marginal to both their own and the larger society.

This group of women share status characteristics and ambiguities which accentuate the importance of the quality

of communi ta shared within the core group. This commu n i ta modality of social relationship is characterized by o 238

unstructured or rudimentarily structured interaction. So that within this core group is a communion of equal in- dividuals, who outside the group are inferior and marginal.

Within the group they share an intense one-to-one inter- action based on shared trials and tribulations overcome through sacred intervention, or made more berable by the empathy of the others. This basis lends the feeling of a sisterhood of fellow sufferers and makes this place (the

and i s i god 1 0 ) a "fountain of renewal, refreshment, hope," indeed life. The expressed sense of euphoria and con- fidence gained from the total experience, along with an

expressed reluctance to leave the confines of the i s i g o d 1 , indicate the intensity of many of the sessions and the feelings endangered by them. The members are reluctant to return to the outside world of uncertainties, real dangers, jealousies, competition, and evaluations. But return they do--feeling revitalized by their experience-- yet drawn back again and again to the sisterhood and communion of equality.

In marked contrast, as we have seen in the previous section, other groups of women in the urban townships

(Keirn 1970) lack this powerful compelling communion of equality. It must be noted that members of this core group also participate as individuals (and many participate actively) in other voluntary charity associations of the type described above. From this participation they gain a heightened awareness of the hierarchical and competitive 1 1. o o 239

aspects of human relations associated with the role-playing required of them. These voluntary associations offer an outlet for the women, but such associations are ultimately linked with the very factors producing status ambiguity.

In this instance the women continually move from structure

(represented here by participation in organizations) into a situation likely to be characterized by communi tas

(represented by the i s i g o d 1 sessions). They then move to their respective homes, and to the world outside the

i s i q 0 d 0 revitalized by their experience of commu n i ta s . As

Turner points out (1969:95-128) social life for individuals and groups is a dialectical process that involves successive experience of communi tas and structure, homogenity and differentiation, equality and inequality.

There are two 'models' for human inter- relatedness, juxtaposed and alternating. The first is of society as a structured differentiated and often hierarchical system of political -legal -economic positions with many types of evaluation, separating people in terms of 'more' and 'less.' The second model, which emerges recognizably in the liminal period, is of society as an unstructured or rudimentarily structured and relatively undifferentiated communitas (Turner 1969: 96)

It is this communi tas aspect of the i s i g o d 1 (an enclosure also in the symbolic aspect of a place of safety, security, respite, or retreat) which helps to bind the core group, enables them to feel catharsis during and after participa- tion in a prayer session, and repeatedly draws them back.

In the i s i g 0 d 0 they form and reaffirm social bonds out s

of or removed from the general structural ambiguities and inequalities of their lives; they find a place where for a time they form a communion of individuals who submit together to the general authority of Nomusa as the ritual elder. They share in their equal submission to the powerful beings of the spirit world, and in so doing share a cathartic experience.

This commu n i ta is continually reinforced and resymbolized by the general procedure of welcome, casual conversation which brings everyone up to date on Nomusa's events since their last visit, and everyone's reporting of her own experiences and problems since her last visit.

Finally all these are interwoven by Nomusa into an emotion- ally charged prayer session. Nomusa's dynamic personality and her wealth of dramatic skills come to the fore in these

impromptu sessions. A communal meal is usually served at the close and Nomusa nearly always has food and various refreshments carefully prepared by an apprentice diviner

(a former client who was miraculously healed through

Nomusa's powers). This communal meal seals the occasion

as one which is unique in its removal from the competitions

evaluations and ambiguities of world outside.^ At the same

time it facilitates a return to that world through free

wide-ranging discussion of topics as diverse as African

liberation and current fashion.

^This core group does not form the total clientele of Nomusa's isigodlo, and neither are all her clients female. However, the ratio of female to male clients is roughly 5:1 . o 241

of Communitas , as such as that at Nomusa's fountain

of the i zanqoma , is of central importance in any discussion catharsis and in any consideration of why certain people become possessed. There are a minimum of three potential

i zanqoma diviners emerging from this one i s i g o d 1 . All of these women have already been referred to above: the first is the social worker just completing her t hwa sa phase; the second is Mrs. Ngidi (Miss Shozi) who was called to t hwa sa by her experience of visitations from the dead; and, the third is the apprentice diviner who has lived with

Nomusa for over a year learning her ritual speciality, while at the same time serving as housekeeper and domestic helper.

The generation of communitas may be, not only an important mechanism of adaptation, but also a mechanism central to the continuing recruitment and growth of the i sangoma cult in urban areas

The adaptive function of the i sangoma diviner in

African urban townships has been noted (du To it 1971:64) whereby the diviner can reduce the duration of individual

indecision, "still fears, interpret unpredictabilities, sanction certain actions, and explain novel experiences."

By using illustrative material from one i sangoma ' s re- cruitment, her mediumship and methods, and her client core, we have seen how she may fulfill such adaptive functions.

This can be done through a reinterpretation and reintegra-

tion of traditional aspects of divination with newer materials and methods of mediumship from both the indepen- dent churches and the "established" churches. 242

In both research townships there are women who are diviners of this somewhat new type, who by displaying their expertise have gained high visibility. Some, like Nomusa, have travelled abroad as a result of invitations or sponsorship received because of their expertise and visibil- ity. They are an integral part of the social mosaic of the townships. CHAPTER NINE

THE SOCIAL MOSAIC: EVENTS

The events that are given pride of place in a community or society often reflect and emphasize some of its values and ideals. At the same time events in many cases clearly express the structure of such a unit, and can offer information on how that structure is perceived by the actors themselves. Public reaction and assessments of certain events can often be used to gauge the perspectives of dif- ferent population segments within a community or society.

In the events presented in this chapter we will see dis- played some symbols and ideologies which are an important part of the social mosaic of the two research townships.

National Traditional Day

The program presented on this day reflected the emphasis on a relinkage with certain aspects of Black tradi- tion as it is perceived today. At the amphitheater open-

ing remarks were made by the "mayor" of Soweto and UBC member, Mr. Peter Lengene. Emphasis was on one Black nation

(the same emphasis we have already seen in our discussion of

ethnicity). "Ebony is Africa" was the theme of the day and

this is clear from the program shown in Plate 2. The Black

clenched fist was used as a symbol, and while this caused

243 PLATE 2 -- NATIONAL TRADITIONAL DAY: EBONY IS AFRICA. 245

EBOnV iS fiFRlCfl

NATIONAL TRADITIONAL DAY

TIME: 12 NOON - 6.00 p.m. PROGRAMME SAT. 18 MAY, 1974

COMPERE: THETHA MASOMBUKA

NATIONAL ATHEM: NKOSI SIKELEL I AFRICA

OPENING REMARKS: MR. P. LENGENE DRUMS OF AFRICA: TRADITIONAL DANCERS:- PEDI; ZULU; SOTHO; SHANGAAN; BACA GUM BOOT.

SPEECH ON BLACK TRADITIONAL MUSIC; MR. FUNSANI {AMBASSADOR OF MALAWI)

THEME SCENE FROM U NOSILIMELA

SPEECH ON BLACK TRADITION AND RELIGION: MR. CREDO MUTWA.

BANDS: Q - SISTERS ISIBAYA ESIKHULU AMAGUGU ESIMANJE LADYSMITH BLACK MAMBAZO JABULANI AMPHITHEATRE

EBONY LOOK AHEAD THINK AHEAD GO AHEAD EBONY YOUNG-GIFTED-BLACK-AND-PROUD 246

some brief controversy in the press, the programs were printed and distributed before any changes occurred regard- ing the use of this symbol. The lower banner line shown in

Plate 2, "Ebony Look Ahead Think Ahead Go Ahead

Ebony," and the very name given to the occasion are indica- tive of the attempt to emphasize national pride and soli- darity. Traditional dancers representing a fairly broad spectrum of African groups are listed under the heading

"Drums of Africa" on the program. We have noted, in an earlier discussion of both music and poetry, the emphasis placed on drums as an integral part of the Black heritage.

The Honorable Mr. Funsani, ambassador of Malawi, who spoke about Black traditional music, extends hospitality to a number of Soweto notables. He in turn is invited to receptions held at private houses at Soweto. He and his staff also issue invitations to such exclusive events held in the city of Johannesburg as the Rand Easter Show, where an elaborate cocktail party was held on the evening prior to the opening of the Malawi pavillion (and the Show itself) to the general public. Invitations to such events are extended to some Soweto notables, as well as to some members of

White Johannesburg society. Also present at such events are members of the Black community from more distant townships such as those near Pretoria or Boksburg. Such occasions provide Blacks (especially women) with the opportunity to wear various types of African traditional dress. It might be added that simply because a woman happens to wear one of the 247

fashionable floor-length Xhosa bead-trimmed skirts at such events, the particular woman is not necessarily Xhosa. This is one of the eclectic aspects of the relinkage with Black tradition. In fact some of the Soweto women who have travelled for holiday visits to Malawi, often don headdress and attire brought with them from their travels.

Also presented on National Traditional Day was the theme

a" scene from Credo Mutwa's play "uNosi 1 imel in which the emphasis is again Black pride and the long and vital heritage shared by Blacks.^ The scene portrays in microcosm the search for and relinkage with a heritage dimmed by circum- stance and conquest. Mr. Mutwa, a Soweto resident, has authored two books which follow the theme of relinking with

Black tradition and Black religion. Hence Mr. Mutwa's speech dealt with Black tradition and the religion of the forefathers.

The vocal and musical groups present, as listed on the program under "bands," were those who specialize in perform- ing primarily in African languages and especially the last group, the "Ladysmith Black Mambazo" is particularly popular.

They have performed at charity events, and they were present at the gala wedding reception to be described in the next section.

^This play in its entirety was performed at a number of venues, and has been seen by some South African Whites. The performance I attended took place at the Johannesburg city offices of the South African Institute of Race Relations. . 248

Annual traditional and beauty contests are held by various groups. One of these groups, composed mostly of

Tsonga women, sponsored a competition between Shangaan,

Pedi, Xhosa, Venda, and Sotho women. In addition to tradi- tional dances performed by women dressed in their traditional costumes, there were recitals of traditional praises, pre- sentations of traditional recipes and dishes, and also the display of traditional utensils. As the busy day was reported by an African reporter present, "the spirit that prevailed throughout was such that when one group competed the other cheered and joined in the dancing and singing.

They were simply one Black nation displaying the colourful traditional dresses of Africa" ("Weekend World," November 25,

1973:22)

" Soweto's R64,000 Wedding of the Year"^

It was the sort of extravaganza that would attract wide

attention because the son of a Soweto tycoon was marrying a

Swazi princess, a daughter of King Sobhuza II. It was the

talk of the township for weeks before the invitations were

issued, and when they finally came out, they created a furor

of their own.

One of the main points of general discussion among

residents was the use of two separate invitations. A general

^This amount spent by the father of the groom was approximately equal to U.S. $90,000.00. The event was widely referred to in this way by the press, whether in news articles in English language newspapers or in articles appearing in 249

one (reproduced in Plate 3) covered the Saturday "white wedding" portion of the lengthy ceremony, a reception at the

Eyethu Cinema, lunch at Mofolo Hall opposite the groom's father's home, and a reception on the evening of the same day. The second invitation, received by a limited and more select group, was arranged in the same format, but was printed in gold on a separate card and invited the recipients to a special reception, also held at eight the same Saturday evening. In the lower right hand corner of this golden invitation, dress was noted as: "Formal, Long Dress or

Traditional." This latter golden key opened the doors of one of White Johannesburg's newest and finest five-star hotels (the Carlton) to all recipients for a gala "multi- racial" black-tie reception.^ Others who received only the general invitation were to gather at Mofolo Hall, or in huge blue and yellow tents installed for the occasion in the open space between the hall and the cinema.

Referring to the general invitation in Plate 3 will indicate the order of the action. On Friday, January 25, the "Swazi traditional wedding" was scheduled to take place.

In actual fact, as we shall see, this was a truncated ver- sion of a much longer ceremony which had taken place near

the English Language papers with a predominantly African circulation such as the "World." ^Special government permission had to be obtained for^ this Carlton cocktail reception and was received on condition that no dancing occur. PLATE 3 -- GENERAL INVITATION TO THE WEDDING OF THE YEAR. 251 the border of Swaziland and had begun on Wednesday, January

23. When the bride and her entourage returned to Soweto from this traditional wedding, it was about 3 A.M. on

January 25. This was the very Friday when the Swazi dancers and Swazi government officials were to be on hand for the scheduled Soweto production of a "Swazi traditional wedding."

As a result of this late arrival, and due to inclement weather, the scheduled dancing in front of the Eyethu Cinema

(owned by the groom's father) did not begin until mid-after- noon. This dancing marked the beginning of the festivities for Soweto. The bride, groom, their attendants, and some of the entourage are pictured in Swazi attire during this color-

ful pageant in Plate 4. Although I was unable to attend the portion of the wedding which took place outside Soweto near the Swaziland border, some idea of that portion can be gleaned from the press account which appeared in the "Rand

Daily Mail," accompanied by a large color photograph.

The reporter set the stage and noted evidence of changes as he wrote:

The sound of music drifted over the hills of Swaziland this week as some 200 Swazis celebrated

the wedding of their pri ncess . . . . 1 1 is symbolic of the way times are changing that the couple are being married twice--first in an extravaganza of a kind Swazi royalty demand, and then in the normal church ceremony urban Africans have grown accustomed to (Maher 1974:5).

The way in which the reporter continued his description further serves to underline the contrasts:

The ritual began with a symbolic washing cere- mony in a river. It continued through the court- PLATE 4 -- SOWETO FESTIVITIES ON THE DAY PRECEDING THE CHURCH WEDDING. SWAZI DANCERS IN TRADITIONAL COSTUME WITH THE BRIDAL COUPLE, THE GROOM HOLDS A COWHIDE SWAZI SHIELD. THE BRIDE RECEIVES THE COUNSEL OF AN OLD WOMAN COVERED IN A BLANKET. 254

ship of the dancing and ended with the presenta- tion of a ring to the princess.

The groom stood with his party, looking completely out of place in their neatly pressed shirt and slacks. His princess, veiled and covered in furs and scarves, sang and danced with her royal sisters for hours while muscular princes of the royal house leapt and spun with their shields and spears, looking as their forefathers must have done

under King Sobhuza I (Maher 1974:5).

The return from these traditional ceremonies, which comprised the first wedding, involved a convoy of about

25 cars and 4 buses departing for Soweto at around 8 P.M. on

January 24. According to Prince Mfanasibili Dlamini, brother of the princess and Swazi Minister of Commerce, there were problems due to early closing of gasoline stations resulting from the gasoline crisis. This extended the time necessary to make the journey. "Getting near Johannesburg we had problems when we got low on petrol and had to transfer fuel from one car to another." Hence the bridal party only arrived in Soweto at about 3 A.M. Friday.

On the morning of January 25 Princess Dlalisile Dlamini was at the couturier's Johannesburg rooms early for fittings of her three dresses for the Soweto ceremonies. The ball- room gown, worn by the bride to the Carlton cocktail party and reception, was a combination of Swazi style integrated by the designer with current fashion. The details surround- ing the gowns to be worn by the bride for the Soweto festivi- ties and the Carlton reception were a closely guarded secret.

By this time the press was calling her "the bride with the solid gold dress" and with good reason. The ballroom gown for the Carlton reception was made of fine gold lame thread.

Around the neck and around the bottom of the gown was a wooden fringe and across the middle was a Swazi mofif. The only gown photographed in advance by the press was the bride's afternoon attire, a classic floor -length burnt- orange wool and silk Bretesche with a short collared jacket.

Although no official extimates of the cost of these costumes was available (at the request of King Sobhuza II), rumor placed their value at around $5,000.

Including both weddings, but excluding any preparation time, the festivities lasted from Wednesday, January 23 through Sunday, January 27. The Soweto church ceremony, held at the A.M.E. church on Saturday morning was a spectac- ular display in itself. In addition to the invited guests who entered the church, Soweto residents, literally in thou- sands, thronged to see what they could of this "wedding of this or any other year." The importance of a public church wedding in the urban townships is widespread, but never had

there been one on such an elaborate, well-publicized, and

spectacular scale. The elements in the description which

follows simply magnify the most of the township trends and

styles already prevalent.^

^For example, if at all possible, a bride should have three changes of costume during her wedding festivities, arrive and depart from the church in impressive style- usually an open coupe, and on behalf of the bridal couple lavish hospitality must be provided at a reception. More^ ^ commonly these receptions are held in hired halls either in the township, or, where possible, in town. Every person 256

Let us turn our attention to the wedding which "pitch- ed the standard very high." Moments before the arrival at the church of the bridal entourage (including two White and two Black bridesmaids, one a princess herself, in addition to two flower girls, also young Swazi princesses), pande- monium broke out as the grounds of the church and the approach roads were jammed with people hoping to see the arrival of the bridal party by helicopter. The groom with his four groomsmen arrived in two hired black Rolls Royces.

The men were attired in cream-beige suits by Pierre Cardin.

The suits were of identical cut, worn with deep brown shirts and beige ties. However the bridegroom's suit was made of pure chamois leather. Because of the crush of onlookers, the police, ushers, and even the father of the groom, who was wielding a large stick, had to drive back the crowd at the church so that the bride and her attendants could enter.

Having left my seat inside, I watched from the door of the church. When the helicopter appeared overhead, exclama- tions were heard throughout the crowd outside. But the bridal party was not aboard. Instead some "decoy guests"

who attends should be catered for with food and drink, so that only in the present case, and at the Carlton Hotel, was the possession of an invitation a requisite for entry. Invi- tations are used in most weddings where style is important, but guests are accorded differential deference. It is essen- tial that prominent guests grace the occasion. In most cases these guests are the "socialties" of the townships; but in the weddings of "socialties," White friends and dignitaries are usually included. We shall return later to the question of whether these various means of scuttling lead to the desired end. 257

had been sent up to prevent any possibility of danger to the bridal party, and to draw away attention. The princess rode to the church in a car with her brother Prince Pika, who gave her away. Her dress designed and made for her by a leading Johannesburg couturier, was an elegant floor-length pure silk organza hand-embroidered with chrysanthemums and featuring a flowing train. On her head she wore a tiara which held her white veil in place. Her flower girls and bridesmaids wore floor-length dresses in various pastel shades, and carried nosegays of flowers.

Finally some 40 Swazi VIP's (members of the royal family excluding King Sobhuza II who was not expected, government ministers and councillors) took their seats in the church where the service was conducted by the Right Reverend

F. C. James, an American and presiding Bishop of the A.M.E. church in South Africa, who had flown from Cape Town for the occasion. He was assisted by the local clergyman of the church. Rev. D. S. Modisapodi, who appealed repeatedly for silence to the assembled guests crowded into the church before the ceremony could begin. Those present, and men- tioned prominently in later press accounts, included Mr. and

Mrs. Pula, Mrs. Dube, the "mayor" of Soweto, Mr. Lengene, and various White officials of the West Rand Bantu Affairs

Administration Board, including its chief director and its

acting chairman. These 1 atter-menti oned Whites were among the few who actually attended the church ceremony.

Johannesburg's mayor. Dr. A. D. Bensusan, had been delayed ^30

but arrived in time to greet the couple before their departure for the first reception.

In Plate 5 the bridal couple are shown leaving the

church following the ceremony. In front of the church stood

the two hired Rolls Royces awaiting their passengers, but

the couple and their entourage did not leave immediately,

partially due to the crush of onlookers, and partially due

to the fact that general conversation and press photographers

detained them. However, presently they entered the cars,

which were gaily festooned with balloons. Their destination

was the Eyethu Cinema where the first of the series of

receptions was scheduled to take place.

At the cinema the wedding cake occupied center stage.

This cake had also received star billing as the "cake that

takes the cake" in a front page article of a leading

Johannesburg newspaper ("Star," January 24, 1974:1). The

seven-tiered cake was over nine feet high, weighed some

1000 pounds, and cost the equivalent of nearly $1,300.

Baked by a shop near Johannesburg, the cake had been trans- ported to the Soweto cinema for the first reception, and then was transported to the Carlton Hotel for the evening festivities there. Each layer of the elaborate masterpiece was decorated with a particular Swazi motif such as a warrior's shield. Flanking the cake on the stage of the cinema, were the numerous distinguished Swazi guests, the bridal party, the parents of the groom, the Soweto "mayor" and his counterpart Dr. A. D. Bensusan, mayor of Johannesburg. PLATE 5 THE BRIDAL COUPLE LEAVE THE SOWETO CHURCH AFTER THEIR SECOND WEDDING CEREMONY. . .

260

There followed lengthy introductions of all the dignitaries

on the stage and speeches by both Mr. Lengene and Dr. Bensusan

Mr. Lengene remarked that the government would have to

change its present policy and declare Soweto a "Bantustan"

(in this sense a place where Africans may own land), so

that the groom's father would be able to build "a big house

where the princess can live." Since many African residents

want the basic right to own land in the urban areas, the

audience of assembled guests cheered and applauded these

remarks enthusiastically. Dr. Bensusan wished the couple

every success and happiness, and told the guests that the

people of Johannesburg were proud to have the princess among them

From this reception guests adjourned across the open

space between the cinema and Mofolo Hall where lunch was

served. Crowds, mostly Black with a few Whites, thronged

around the area, eager to see what they could of the pro-

ceedings, as the guests and bridal party moved from the

cinema to the hall. Inside the hall a large central table

held every imaginable food, both hot and cold, and guests

took plates to serve themselves from the buffet, finding

seats at the numerous tables crowding the hall. Throughout this lunch and at various other times during the weekend's festivities, spotlights banked on motion picture cameras were nearly blinding to the guests, and press photographers were everywhere. One South African firm had provided beer I

for the lunch, and their long advertising banners were prom-

inently displayed over the stage and around the hall in

addition to the other decorations.

It was already late afternoon by the time people began

to leave the hall and go their separate ways. Many adjourned

to various homes to continue their own festivities, and to

prepare for the evening's activities. Miss Velelo and her

friends departed to a private house to enjoy further refresh- ments, bathe, and dress in preparation for the trip into

town to the Carlton Hotel reception. Our hostess provided

drinks and more food (which she and ner household helper had

prepared in advance that morning). The house filled rapidly as friends dropped in, began to enjoy the ambiance of soul music on the stereo, drinks, dancing, and conversation. This party was an informal or spontaneous one in the sense that everyone in this clique simply knew that something would be happening at Miss Velelo's place. Eventually we women re- tired to one bedroom to dress for the evening, and for more than an hour happy chaos reigned as we raced across the hall to the bathroom, and then back to the bedroom, where all were using the one large mirror and assisting each other with fashion advice. One leading model offered me a suggestion as to how to arrange a long strand of pearls with which I was having difficulty and so it went. One of the guests going to the Carlton had decided on the traditional attire shown in Plate 6, while another had chosen a simple floor- length dark crepe dress with a long sweeping ostrich-feather PLATE 6 THE TRADITIONAL ATTIRE WORN BY ONE OF THE GUESTS FOR THE CARLTON HOTEL WEDDING RECEPTION. 263

boa wrapped around the neck and left trailing over the shoulder.

Arriving at the Carlton Hotel, one could not avoid

noticing the crowd of mostly White onlookers flanking the

impressive main entrance and staring curiously at those of

us going inside. Invitations were carefully checked, and

only those with the golden-printed separate cards were

admitted to the upstairs ballroom. It was a staggering

sight which could not be encompassed in one glance. Every-

where in the half-acre ballroom large tables overflowed with

the most elaborate of hors d'oeuvres surrounding flowing

fountains and colored lights. At the table of honor sat the bridal entourage, and the ballroom was packed with approxi- mately 800 guests. Their diversity was i ncredi bl e--not simply because Black and White in South Africa were enjoy- ing the same festivities, facilities, and refreshments , but because of the striking differences in dress. Beaded and sequined gowns were worn by White women looking only slightly uncomfortable as to what might happen next, since they stood shoulder to shoulder with the Swazi warriors attired in their traditional animal-skin garb carrying their shields and sticks. Men, Black and White, some wearing black-tie attire and others in suits of the latest "mod" fashion, stood side by side with Black women, some of whom were wearing elaborate traditional garb, while others were wore expensive creations from Johannesburg boutiques. Cham- pagne was provided, as well as every cocktail imaginable by 264

the bartenders at the two bars which had been set up in the

corners of the room. Word was circulated that by 11 P.M.

the room should be cleared. However 11 P.M. came and went

with only a slight notice, and many guests remained. At

about midnight those who had come together began to search

each other out--no mean feat in such a large establishment.

In order to determine what sort of events were to be

provided for those not invited to the Carlton, we returned

to Soweto, arriving at Mofolo Hall at approximately 1 A.M.

on Sunday morning. The hall was nearly filled by residents, most of whom were wearing street attire, who sat waiting on

folding chairs, and a local band was just setting up its

equipment. The music group was still playing at 3 A.M., and although it was understood that the bridal party was to have put in an appearance, they had not arrived by 3 A.M. Private parties continued through the night, and earlier on other

Carlton guests had left Mofolo Hall for their favorite shebeens having become bored with the activities at the hall.

At Mofolo Hall this night the ordinary people not invited to the glittering "multi-racial" reception at the Carlton waited, apparently in vain, for the arrival of the featured partici- pants in the wedding.

According to a White spokesman for the groom's father the bridal couple were to honeymoon in Durban and the

Transkei , where they would be guests of Chief Kaizer

Matanzima, the Chief Minister. Upon their return they were to reside at Soweto where, as the groom's father said. 26 b

"They will go straight into business. I am not keen on

them going back to school because I want Vusi to manage the

garage. If they want to pursue their studies, it is all

right, but it must be something to do with the business.

I won't spoil them with gifts: they will have to work hard

for their living. But I'll give them a beautiful house"

("Sunday Times," January 20, 1974:5).

The furor caused by the issuing of separate invitations

to this wedding of the year, was rivalled only by the furor

after the wedding festivities had passed. In private con-

versations and general gossip, the opinion was repeatedly

expressed that the groom's father had squandered money on

such a wedding. The storm of criticism finally broke in

the press when an African journalist reported the response of an angry father of the groom to the critics. The critics

had charged, some publ i cl that the y , , wedding was an extra- vagant waste of money that could have been put to better use for the benefit of the poor of the community. The headmaster of a local school was quoted as saying, "Every man has the right to use his money as he chooses be it wisely or unwisely. But [he] should have given a thought to the children in his area who can't go to school because of lack of a pittance" ("Sunday Times," February 3, 1974:6).

Another Black, a high official of a sports association said,

"We Blacks are dependent on Whites. Our fellow Blacks who have the means, never seem to throw anything our way or give a helping hand. [The groom's father] could at least have .

266

given money for the building of an old age home or a school Sunday ( Times," February 3, 1974:6). In his response to

the critics the groom's father was adamant that, "Whatever

people say I am not bothered as long as my children get the

best. I worked hard for my money and I sweated all the way.

I am not impressed by suggestions that I should have donated

money to charity or the building of a school. When I was

struggling, these people were not bothered by shortages of

schools" ("Sunday Times," February 3, 1974:6). The groom's

father slammed the weakness of those who "rushed to shebeens

and beerhalls after work," by saying that, "If all of us

saved our money like I did, there would be no fuss about

what I have spent. Some people have been driven by jealousy to criticize me."

Not surprisingly the subject did not end there. A local

sports organizer of my acquaintance reported his difficulties

(post-wedding) in obtaining funds in support of a planned competition for youths at Soweto. He had approached one

White firm for a donation and was offered "whatever that businessman who put on the wedding gave as a donation."

Embarrassed by the fact that the latter had already refused to donate, the sports organizer responded that he would return when he had contacted the businessman. He never returned

At a UBC meeting (post-wedding) the topic of discussion was provision of buses much needed for transport in one area of Soweto. One councillor interrupted to quip, "Why 267

not ask [the groom's father], he would be glad to do it and

he has the me ansi" Another councillor was quick with a

response, "No, but he prefers Whites to us." A double mean-

ing was contained in this last response. First, it was

widely known that many of the Whites who had been invited to

the Carlton were unknown to the father of the groom, and

since he was the one presumably extending hospitality, this

was felt to be inappropriate. And second, some of the

councillors had apparently noticed the same or similar

instances as I had during the weekend wedding. These were

instances where Whites, whether they could actually produce

invitations to the Mofolo Hall lunch were allowed to pass

the Black doorkeeper ahead of Blacks who did have their

invitations and who were in line ahead of the Whites. Other

instances, equally awkward, also occurred, but this one is

sufficient to indicate how resentment was bred. The assump-

tion was that any White who was there in the crowd was automatically entitled to entry, and fellow Blacks were accorded second place and rude treatment in some cases.

Quips of ridicule, such as the one above, indicate that the elaborate wedding may have put off the very people in the

Black community whom it was designed to impress. It had all the elements for s accruing p re t i ge -ca p i ta 1 , and yet, it seems that in social elite circles particularly, criticism was occasioned by an extreme exaggeration of these elements.

Many people were also critical because the groom's father has in the past stated his public sunport for the government 268

policy of "separate development," In general among the

elite such support is considered naive and stupid. In

addition his statements regarding the lack of utility and

importance of education for making one's way in the world

were viewed as remarks which would naturally be made by

someone who lacks education. In fact this very point cropped

up during the weekend's festivities. At each reception the

groom was expected to make brief appropriate remarks, and

each time an apology was made with the implication that at a

later time he would make his public comments. This never

occurred and was remarked on as odd by various guests at the

time. Several Soweto friends explained that the groom was

not highly educated, and speculated that this must be the

reason for his not performing as would be expected of a

groom of proper standing.

Rumors flew before, during, and after the wedding of the

year: the groom was not in love with the princess - this

was strictly an alliance based on his father's business

interests, and he was actually in love with a Soweto woman;

his educational level made him reluctant to speak publicly

in English; his father was a "front" for White capital

investment in the townships and did not actually have much money at all which belonged to him; the groom's father had allowed some of his fellow Blacks to be treated as "second- fiddles" to Whites attending the festivities. Some of the elite of Soweto were angry at what they considered profli- gate waste, and protested in their personal ways. For example some sales representatives claimed that, "If that

garage was the only one open, and I was out of petrol, I

would first push my car home than patronize there!"

The wedding has all the elements of lavish public dis-

play necessary in scuttling and often seen on a smaller

scale. Whether or not the businessman intended to scuttle

through his son's wedding, he was angered by the storm of

controversy that resulted. On the whole the response was

such that it appears that this attempt to "make a big splash"

rebounded, and was a relatively unsuccessful attempt at

scuttling. The "tycoon's" house was referred to as being

"only a converted four-room," with the speaker evaluating

this accommodation as not meeting public expectations of one

so rich. The house is an extensively altered four-room

structure, but with additional rooms added, and a wide roofed

porch. Its rooms are small and crowded with heavy furniture

in an old-fashioned style. "It is clear he doesn't know

how to spend his money, but what can you expect of a person who can't sign his own name to a cheque." His house was

not up to the expected standard, he was "uneducated and

"rude," i.e. he did not "make it" according to the criteria discussed in an earlier chapter. Remarks such as the follow-

ing were plentiful: "After this weekend they'll just be like the rest of us and the princess can carry a pass" (a document required of all Africans resident in the urban are as which must be produced on demand if requested by police or other official). This was one way of "bringing down" those . 270

who for the moment were monopolizing the publics' attention.

However not more than a few people known to me who received one or both invitations could resist going to see this widely publicized extravaganza and to seen there. Certainly the Carlton reception was the highlight which made the biggest impression. Subsequent to the wedding, several prominent African organizations tried to obtain permission for various occasions to be held at the Carlton but without success

As we have seen, the prominent businessman whose son's wedding has just been described was criticized even by some of those social elite persons at Soweto who had received invitations to both the church ceremony and the Carlton evening black-tie reception. Among the social elite some were critical of his treatment of the "common people" in providing separate entertainment for them at the Soweto community hall, while simultaneously others. White and Black, were enjoying the glittering festivities at the Carlton some miles away. Some Sowetons had noted, as has this researcher, the differential treatment of Blacks and the few Whites who were present at Soweto for the mid-day luncheon following the reception at the cinema. It will be recalled that some

Whites were allowed by the Black doorkeeper to pass into the luncheon without his having seen that they actually had an invitation. They were allowed to do so, in some cases, before Blacks who were also waiting in line to enter. While this may not have been the fault of the groom's father, it 271

was thought by the social elite that since he was the sponsor of the festivities, he was the responsible person.

This event and the reaction to it provides a contrast to another elaborate wedding in which an African medical doctor's daughter was being married to a university lecturer. Both Whites and Blacks had been invited to this wedding. The doctor, however, was widely praised by some of the same elite who were critical of the businessman. They said of the doctor, "He provided everyone with the type of hospitality and entertainment he or she could appreciate.

He provided even for the common ordinary person who had come to celebrate with the family."

This contrast of the two reactions points up the fact that, by their very nature, social evaluations so important to the success of scuttling, can be used flexibly. Either side of the coin can be placed face up, so to speak, and similar recognition of social boundaries and differences by a host can be evaluated differently by 1 oca 1 res i dents depending on whether the individual or family in question has a reservoir of unspent social capital in the Black community. This flexibility of social evaluation is what provides for the dynamic aspects of scuttling.

The critical comments regarding the wedding sponsored by the businessman provided an opportunity for the social elite to set themselves apart from "those who don't know how things are done." They could show their concern with charity work (which as we have seen is usually associated 272

with the elite and their society) by being critical of extravagance they viewed as "waste." They could remark that,

"We would have done many things differently." These types of statements "bring down" the sponsor of the festivities, as well as providing another way for the elite to set them- selves apart from either the "masses" or from upstarts who have the money but "don't know how to spend it properly."

In the following chapter the items and activities which are part of the elite life-style will be detailed in order to demonstrate another way in which social boundaries are maintained and reinforced. The chapter will reveal what the social elite view as a proper life-style, and, especial ly with regard to durable or consumer goods, will illustrate what is trend-setting and fashionable. CHAPTER TEN

THE SOCIAL MOSAIC: SCUTTLING AND "MAKING IT"

Life-style is one important factor in translating econo- mic differences into public standing. The appropriation of

the various elements of the environment in different and

socially expressive ways is one more way of scuttling. Such

appropriation expresses wealth, education, or sophistication of residents, just as it does in other societies. In the

townships, if the ways in which such appropriations are made are favorably evaluated, then one is scuttling success-

fully. It is in the public display of expertise through

events, and through the possession of certain desirable ele- ments that one may gain visibility, and may also gain pres-

tige. The evaluations discussed in Chapter Six are made

on the basis of the kinds of visible tangible evidence to be

detailed in this discussion. The present chapter, then, des- cribes the life-styles of the social elite of the townships.

Housing, Facilities, and Decor

As we have seen in Chapter Six, not all those in the

respondent sample, who are viewed by other residents as

social elite, occupy privately built houses. Some occupy

houses, similar to the one shown in Plate 7. It is

a four-room municipal house with extensive alterations

273 PLATE 7 A FOUR-ROOM MUNICIPAL HOUSE IMPROVED AT THE EXPENSE OF ITS RESIDENTS. including plastering, painting, addition of a special fence, and a carved wooden door. These exterior alterations do not exhaust the list of improvements, made at the expense of the resident, since they do not include the renovation of the interior. However the great bulk of ordinary township families live in the monotonous four-room "matchbox" houses shown in Plate 8. We have already noted that the "biggest people do not live in the biggest houses." However, the house one occupies should be an expression of one's standing consistent and combined with the other evaluative criteria.

Use and display of goods acquired must be congruent with the expectations of others about what is appropriate to express the position on any given individual or family. Before des- cribing aspects of life-sytle, we shall examine evaluations made by some of the social elite which reveal their expecta- tions of what is appropriate and what is congruent with the standing of a given person or family.

In the following case of the ostracized nurse, we find that she is too obviously attempting to scuttle, i.e. she is seen as trying too hard to appear as if she and her husband are "making it." Her husband is employed by an overseas firm, and she is employed as a staff nurse at a local township clinic. When her husband took up his present post, a car was provided by the firm for his use. Hence the family car was freed for the use of the nurse. She has become the butt of some ridicule because she drives the family car daily to the clinic where she is employed, even though it is within easy PLATE 8 -- THE GREAT BULK OF TOWNSHIP FAMILIES LIVE IN THESE MONOTONOUS "MATCHBOX" HOUSES OF FOUR ROOMS RENTED FROM THE MUNICIPALITY. 277

walking distance from their present home. The car remains

parked all day outside the clinic, until evening when she

departs. At about the same time that her husband took his

present post, they moved to another municipal house, one

which she feels in in a better neighborhood. However the

rental of this house, which had been somewhat altered from

its original condition and a garage added prior to their

taking occupancy, is about triple that of the ordinary four-

room municipal rental house. In the eyes of some of her

colleagues who exclude her at lunch or tea time, especially

those who live in privately built houses, this move to the

second house involved a foolish expenditure of money which

could have been better spent on remodeling the original house

the couple occupied, or saved to enable them to put up their own privately built house. As it is, with her expenditure on driving to work every day coupled with the relatively

high rental paid for accomodation which is not evaluated as

significantly better, she is viewed as "lacking in common

sense" and as someone who does not know how best to invest resources.

But one must live up to the expectations of others regarding one's accommodation. In another case, that of two teachers, they are viewed as doing too little in regard to their housing, i.e. they are not expressing their standing as teachers in their life-style with regard to the highly visible criterion of housing. Their house has hardly been

improved at all, their yard is not kept tidy, and their 278

children not properly attired according to the evaluations of several of their neighbors. They provide a contrast to another neighborhood family a few houses away, and in evaluations of neighborhood residents this contrast was often

noted. The nearby neighbors of the two teachers are not

viewed as especially well-educated, and hold relatively hum-

ble jobs with the wife a factory worker and the husband

employed at a drug store in the city. However, their house,

also a four-room municipal house, has been altered such that

the exterior is smoothly plastered, and an attractive fence

surrounds a tidy yard with attractive landscaping. The

interior is also completely plastered, painted, and well-

furnished with inexpensive but new living room, bedroom, and

kitchen facilities. The kitchen walls are of ceramic tile,

and the sink has been installed into a countertop. An

electric stove, refrigerator and cabinets complete the

kitchen. A completed bathroom with pastel fixtures is just across a rear patio in a separate addition since there was

not adequate space for the installation of such facilities

inside their four rooms. "Just look what Mr. and Mrs. Ntshali

have been able to do, despite their lack of education, look

at their well-cared for children who are properly clothed,

look at their yard and you will see what we mean. They have

done this by spending their money wisely for their own com-

fort and for their children." When comparing the nearby

teachers' accommodation, the remark was often made that "they

are really not teachers to live like that." 279

Similar reactions were made spontaneously, regarding the accommodation of a fairly well-educated businessman who is also a UBC member. One morning accompanied by two local residents I drove into the neighborhood where the businessman had directed us to meet him at his house. In the past he had always been contacted at his place of business. As we looked for the house number we had been given, one of my companions said, "There is the house." Stopping the car in

a driveway, I looked at the number and discovered it was not the number sought. The house in front of which we had halted was an improved house with a lovely well-tended yard, and my companion had automatically assumed, without looking closely at the number, that this house belonged to the man we were to meet. As it happened just next door stood an ordinary brick four-room structure, which I noticed had the correct

number. When I pointed to this house, my companion expressed surprise saying, "I thought it was that one we parked in

? front of! lives here " The man's wife was employed as a staff nurse, and from all expectations my companion had constructed a mental image of the sort of house this man would occupy. She had never been to his home previously.

The actual accommodation we found was obviously not congruent with her expectations. Such examples involving housing as an expression of social standing, coupled with other criteria of evaluation, need not be multiplied to demonstrate the point being made. dtiU

The relatively few township residents' privately built houses provide a contrast to the monotony and drabness of most of the rest of the townships. The drab housing and street scene in Plate 9 provide a striking contrast to one fairly typical privately built house shown in Plate 10. As was pointed out in Chapter Four, the owner of such a pri- vately built house was, at the time of this study, not per- mitted by the regulations governing urban Africans to own the land on which such a house stood. The house owner pays a monthly site rental to the municipality. As an example, the site rental for the privately built house shown in

Plate 10 is approximately the equivalent of $13.00 (includ- ing electricity). Most of the privately built houses, which are complete or nearing completion, offer amenities well beyond the means of the average township resident.

The spacious living room shown in Plate 11, with its fashionable furnishings and wooden parquet floors is not atypical of the nature of accommodation in such homes. They generally include either wood flooring or wall-to-wall car- pet, a living room fireplace, a separate dining room, over- head lighting from either a chandelier or other fixture as well as lamps. A few of those which are more elaborate, such as Mr. and Mrs. Pula's or Dr. and Mrs. Dube's include a separate bar and recreation area for stereo components, and a separate entry foyer. Most privately built homes include a porch of concrete, stone, or slate from which to enter the house through carved wooden doors. However, friends or PLATE 9 A TYP ICALLY DRAB TOWNSHIP STREET SCENE WITH MUNIC IPAL HOUSING IN THE BACKGROUND.

% PLATE 10 A PRIVATELY-BUILT HOUSE IN THE TOWNSHIP STANDS ON LAND WHICH, AT THE TIME OF THE RESEARCH, ITS RESIDENTS COULD NOT OWN. PLATE 11 -- THE SPACIOUS LIVING ROOM AND FASHIONABLE FURNISHINGS IN A PR I V ATEL Y- BU I LT HOUSE. IN ADDITION THE HOUSE INCLUDES THREE BEDROOMS, SEPARATE DINING ROOM, BREAKFAST NOOK, KITCHEN, BATH AND TOILET. A GARAGE AND STORAGE ROOMS ARE ADJACENT. . 284

frequent vi s itors usual! y go to a side or back door to gain

entry. These homes, like the home shown in Plate 10, provide

interior toilet and bath facilities, and the current fashion

seems to be moving away from the pastel fixtures to those in

brown, deep orange, or white. Patterned ceramic tile, of

the type imported from Italy, is used in coordinated colors

for flooring and walls, while the ordinary solid-color

smaller tiles are popular for use on the walls of kitchens.^

Single or double garages usually are integrated into the

design of the privately built homes, and have been added in

some cases to the four-room houses. Kitchen facilities

include built-in cabinets for storage, countertops often color coordinated with the rest of the kitchen decor, plus stove, sink and ref r i gerator . Some houses have a separate breakfast nook where family meals are eaten. Alternately family meals are served at a table in the kitchen. The dining rooms, which are separate, are used only on especially formal or festive occasions when a large number of people are expected

In some houses there are exterior quarters which can house domestic help, and it is considered poor form in elite circles to refer to such helpers as servants. Some are paid by their employers, others receive a minimal allowance in exchange for their meals and accommodation. But some

It will be recalled that some of these features are also included in the alterations and improvements added by residents, such as Dr. and Mrs. Mofoko, Dr. and Mrs. Kumalo, Miss Mokoena, and Miss Velelo, who occupy municipal houses. Africans who could afford, and might need, domestic helpers

due to the size of their houses, and due to the fact that

the wife is working full-time outside the home, refuse to

employ other Africans whom they feel they would be exploit-

ing and underpaying. In one case reported to me by the

husband of a family, however, a domestic helper was fired by

the wife for being found having a bath in the family bathtub.

By far the most common form of household help is the town-

ship women who from time to time call on particular families'

homes to do washing and ironing. In only one house was a washing machine noted, and since South Africa had no tele-

vision at the time of this study, there were no sets in the

townships.

Other facilities in privately built houses or added by the residents of improved municipal houses include built-in closets, in lieu of which, separate wardrobes, usually with a finish matching the bedroom suite, are used. In order to even begin to make a four-room municipal house presentable,

it must be plastered on both the exterior and the interior,

interior doors and ceilings added, and where electricity is available it must be connected into the house and installed at the resident's expense. As noted earlier African workmen who are known to be outstanding at their particular craft are at a premium, they are eagerly sought, and usually hired from one job to the next by personal recommendation of those already having had work done by them. ^ab

Decor varies widely, but in some cases includes items

of African material culture. In one house large wooden

spoons hang on a stone wall in the living room, and a tradi-

tional clay beer pot in used as container for a foliage

plant. In another house wooden masks from other parts of

Africa hang on walls as featured parts of the decor, and in

another home, two large cowhide shields, similar to the one

shown in Plate 4 being held by the groom, are a focal point

of the living room wall decor. Baskets, such as those

traditionally used for the winnowing of grain can be hung on

walls, or set on the floor to hold magazines or newspapers.

Larger baskets, such as might traditionally be used for the

storage of grain, are used as decorative containers for

needlework, unsewn cloth, or for the storage of other mis- cellaneous goods. In some other homes framed works by various Black South African artists (such as Maseko and

Ncgobo) hang on the walls, and beer pots are used as objects of art. Cowhide drums are used as small tables, or simply

placed to decorate a room in another home, and when necessary, they can provide additional seating used as low stools.

African beadwork is occasionally displayed on walls, as well as being worn by some women for special occasions.

Furnishings are an important part of decor, and are extremely diverse. At one house the new concept of furniture as an integral part of the architecture of the house has been used. In front of the fireplace, built into one white- plastered wall of a huge living room, there are white- 287

plastered benches with loose cushions. On these benches as

the cushion covers the owners have used imported Scandinavian

cloth (Marimekko) in a bold abstract contemporary print.

The floor is of slate slabs laid into concrete, and a large wooden carved figure by an African artist stands behind one

bench. In the bath (just being completed), one wall will

consist of mirror tiles with glass and chrome shelving for

storage, and the tub will be sunken into the ceramic tile

floor. Most houses have a more conservative style of decor,

some being furnished in a classic style with, for example,

velvet sofas and matching chairs, and marble-top individual tables or coffee tables. Lighting in these homes is pro- vided by floor or table lamps, or formal chandeliers, rather than the hanging paper globes of the most contemporary homes.

Some owners have used a French provincial style of decor with brocade-upholstered furnishings and heavy window treat- ments of tied-back full-length drapes over sheer open weave casement fabric. Still other homes use the fashionable massive imitation-leather loose-cushion sofas and matching chairs with exposed wooden arms. These may be complemented with chrome and glass-top tables. Several homes have wood paneling on two walls on either side of the fireplace and built-in bookcases which hold, not only books, but stereo components as well.

Not all fashionable homes are so expensively or elab- orately furnished, but creativity is used in some to make the interior decor notably different from that of the average 288

resident. In one such home the living room sofa of the

four-room improved home is a single-width divan (which can

serve guests as an extra sleeping accommodation) covered with a textured cloth throw and backed with quantities of

throw cushions in various coordinated sizes, shapes, and

patterns. Drapes in this home are full-length burlap hung

from dark wooden rods and large rings. Stereo components and books are placed on a long low set of boards and blocks.

With the use of color, texture and simplicity, the owner of this home has achieved a comfortable and innovative look for the decor without the costly furnishings of some of the other houses. Floor cushions provide extra seating when required.

Some houses make use of lawn furniture on upstairs out- door balconies or in a fenced and landscaped yard. Such furniture includes umbrella tables and wrought metal chairs.

It is especially useful on the occasion of garden parties, either given by private individuals for their own guests or sponsored on behalf of charity to raise funds.

Fashion, Food, and Drink

Wearing apparel is another aspect of a life-style different from the great bulk of residents. Especially at

Soweto, there is emphasis placed on the wearing of high- quality current fashion for both men and women. The days when no costume for attending church, a wedding, or a social event was complete without a hat are rapidly passing among . i 289

the trend-setters. Long dresses made from a lightweight

cotton African- type print, which is fairly inexpensive, are

always acceptable and fashionable for parties (See Plate 12).

Such dresses allow for a considerable savings when contrast ed

to the attire purchased at exclusive boutiques in either

Johannesburg or Durban. For example, a woman who shopped at

these boutiques bought two ensembles costing a total of about $200,00. This did not include any accessories which were required. Shoes, for both women and men, are quite costly in South Africa and for a pair of good quality ladies' suede pumps, the price can easily be upwards of $30.00,

For casual occasions such as the one shown in Plate 12, men may wear suits and ties, but usually more comfortable informal attire is chosen. The d a s h i k or loose-fitting

African shirt may be worn with casual trousers or sometimes with blue jeans. For the most part men at such parties wear a knitted shirt or turtleneck sweater, or an ordinary short- sleeve sport shirt, A good deal of the clothing bought at boutiques or the better-known large department stores is imported from England and is quite costly. Trousers or trouser-suits for women are generally more acceptable at

Soweto for such casual events than they are at Kwa Mashu where trousers are still not widely worn in public by most women

When suits are required, such as for attending a wedding or a movie premiere at Soweto, men usually choose those of the most up-to-date style some in plaids with flared legs. PLATE 12 -- A GROUP OF FRIENDS, GATHERED FOR A PARTY, DANCE TO STEREO MUSIC. TWO OF THE WOMEN SHOWN ARE WEARING ECLECTIC VERSIONS OF AFRICAN DRESS. "

291

wide lapels, a coordinated shirt and wide tie. These are

purchased from fashionable men's shops in the central city.

Sometimes these may be worn with the latest platform shoes,

which have a stacked leather heel of at least an inch and

one-half. For business and daily wear a more conservative

unpatterned suit may be chosen, or a sport coat may be worn with trousers. A part of the description of a male "situa-

tion" at Soweto includes: a suit, white shirt, and tie

usually worn with a hat. The man will be described as carry-

ing a briefcase and under one arm a folded copy of the "Rand Daily Mail.

As one instance will show clearly, this interest in fashion and display extends to the younger set as well. On

Sunday mornings or during school holidays, young teenage girls, wearing their dressing gowns and houses! i ppers may be seen parading around several Soweto blocks. This dressing gown parade (ridiculed by people like Mrs. Segone or

Mrs. Mafoko) displays the fact that these young women have fashionable attire even for their early morning hours. How- ever, like the residents we encountered earlier, who speak

Front door English," the young girls succeed only in appear- ing ridiculous. As Mrs. Segone put it, "Can you imagine walking around the streets attired in your dressing gown!"

Beadwork is popular and is often added to a plainly styled woman's dress at the neck, wrists, or worn in the hair as a headband. Wigs are popular for women and the Afro is fashionable. However the latest in hair styles is plaiting 292

or braiding the hair in elaborate styles requiring a number of hours (and a hairdresser or willing friend) to produce.

Hair straightening is not especially popular with the trend- setters. It is notable that the creams which used to be prominently advertised on huge billboards in the townships in 1969 as skin liqhteners are now advertised as "fashionable people use creme X" with the emphasis placed on the softening or smoothing qualities of these products.

Some well-known residents appear in various advertise- ments for products in newspapers and the magazine sections.

In other cases professional models appear. In one liquor advertisement with an outdoor background, an African woman wearing a long dress sat at a table looking up at a man standing beside her tasting the product being advertised.

In the background was a luxury car and the emphasis was on what the fashionable people, the trend-setters of the Black community, were ostensibly drinking. Brand-name liquors are important. Part of extending gracious hospitality is know- ing the preferences of the members of one's clique of friends and having those brands on hand. In one clique for example,

"A party is not a party without Brand X brandy, a more costly variety recently put on the market. It is more acceptable in Soweto for women to drink alcoholic beverages, and some hosts offer special "ladies drinks" such as sweet cordials or sherry. Recently wine has begun to interest a few of the elite, and is a popular topic of conversation, but is uncommonly served to guests. People sometimes have a good 293

laugh at the telling of various misconceptions held about

the effects of wine by the African man in the street.

Food is also a part of the reciprocal entertainment

involved in the life-style of the social elite. Whether a

party has been planned in advance, or whether people gather

spontaneously at a person's home, food must be provided as

part of the hospitality. At the latter type of occasion

the food provided may include a less elaborate array of items

such as various sandwich wedges, potato chips, or nuts and

raisins which can be prepared on the spur of the moment.

At a planned cook-out such as Miss Mokoena's, steak and chops

are grilled outside, stiff corn meal porridge is provided,

and cold salads such as harvard beets with onions, cabbage

salad, or peas and carrots with a mayonaisse dressing com-

plete the menu. At a large house party there may be a meat

or cheese fondue provided for guests, or several kinds of

meat, both cold and hot may be offered buffet style, along

with vegetables and cold salads, as well as a choice of

desserts such as ice cream or gelatin with fruit and cream.

Daily meals of the social elite differ from those of lesser means and standing. On several occasions when I was not

expected, but arrived at the time of the evening meal, I

found steak or other beef having been prepared with at

least two vegetables (tinned or fresh), boiled, oven browned or mashed potatoes, beet or carrot salad, and dessert. Hot tea is usually served after the meal, although some people prefer coffee. Tea and biscuits or scones are offered to 294

guests whenever they arrive, even for a short visit, to ask

a favor such as the loan of some gasoline, or just because

they happened to be passing by. The ability to move around at will is determined by the possession of a personal motor car and the type of car is also subject to the dictates of fashion as well as personal preference. Some people say, "I've been driving one or other model of Volvo for years, and would not use anything else." For the most part the prestige cars are usually imports such as the Jaguar XJ6, the Volvo, the B.M.W., or the various models of Mercedes-Benz. The idea of owning a big American car, while still popular, seems to be being supplanted by these types just mentioned. For those who want more economical transportation, new Datsuns, Toyotas, and Volkswagens are popular. With the price of petrol at around $1.00 per U.S. gallon, "moving around" by car is fairly expensive. One man, who had recently purchased and imported a new Mercedes-Benz personal touring car with a convertible top, had spent (if customs duty is included) in the region of $25,000. As has been noted by Mbatha, a Black South African anthropologist:

If, forexample, you are a monied man, it's no use saying you have money if you can't produce a car. A car is a very important badge of pro- minence. Once you have a car people look up to you (quoted in Kuper 1965:112).

Just as with housing, facilities, and decor, a car expresses one's standing and sets one apart from the "masses." However, it should be noted that simply possessing a car is not 295

sufficient to enter the world of the social elite, but it is nearly a necessary condition. The reasons will become clearer in the following discussion of entertainment and activities.

Entertainment and Activities

Naturally most leisure-time association takes place in the evenings and on weekends when "moving around" is a way of life. To make the rounds of the proper shebeens, the men, sometimes accompanied by their wives, must have transport as well as the available resources to spend for buying of drinks. These shebeens are the cocktail lounges of the town- ships. Fashion in sheebans shifts fairly rapidly depending on the other clientele of a given shebeen. To meet friends and to share conviviality in these circles requires resources and standing far beyond those of the average resident. In addition to spontaneous gatherings at a clique member's house, a planned cook-out, a house party, a welcome or fare- well gathering, or a charity event such as a premiere showing of a movie or a cheese and wine ball, shebeen-hopping is characteristic of much of the elite social life. At any occasion music is nearly always provided, and may consist of jazz, rock, or soul from a stereo or a radio, and sometimes from a live band playing a "gig" that night at the venue of the social gathering.

To move in these circles means not only to be able to take part, but to be able to meet the obligations of offering 296

such entertainment to one's friends. Dancing is most usually

"jive," and not ballroom dancing. This is in direct contrast

to what was noted by Brandel -Syri er in her Reeftown research

where she noted that all modern jive dancing was "abhorred"

(1971:93). She found "no interest" in expressions of

African culture and as we have seen earlier in Part II this position has changed markedly.

If one is to attend any occasion at Soweto's Eyethu

Cinema, it is preferable to purchase the more expensive tick-

ets for the upstairs balcony. Attendance at events by invi-

tation, such as the Rand Easter Show mentioned earlier,

requires the use of a car, as did travelling to the Carlton

Hotel for the gala wedding reception described earlier. For sporting events there is a price difference according to the side of the stadium on which one wishes to sit. If one takes the train, first-class tickets are a must. The embassy parties, such as that in celebration of July 4, American

Independence Day, are by invitation only, and are well attended by people like Miss Mokoena and some of the medical doctors and their wives. The weekends for people like

Dr. and Mrs. Mafoko, Miss Mokoena or Miss Velelo are some- times spent away from Soweto with friends in other townships, or outside the confines of the urban areas at the homes of friends.

One Soweto woman was a close friend of a chief in the country and often spoke about his palatial house. On hear- ing this from her, I asked (thinking of all the anthropo- 297

logical literature about chieftainship with its hereditary

aspects, sitting at courts, allocating land use, etc.)> "Is

he a proper chief?" Her response to my poorly-worded ques-

tion revealed a generally-held attitude to rural chiefs.

She replied, "Oh heavens no, he's well-educated, he's been

abroad and so has his brother. You should see the mansion

he lives in, full of every modern convenience imagi neabl e--a fridge with an ice-maker, an electronic speaker system through which he can communicate with other parts of the huge house, play the stereo, and check on the gates elec- tronically." She went on to describe the artwork he owned, the sumptuous furniture, and general decor and grounds of the mansion. She spent several weekends with six of her

Soweto friends visiting the chief, and being entertained by him. However this was the only instance in this social circle of Soweto residents being enticed into the rural areas that are generally regarded as "backward" and contain- ing little of interest, amusement, or entertainment.

Receptions held for foreign dignitaries at private homes in Soweto or Kwa Mashu are a good way of scuttling. For example, American visitors are entertained by Mr. and Mrs.

Pula, or Dr. and Mrs. Dube, or, as mentioned earlier, by the house party in honor of the Malawian ambassador. Such parties are another way of extending contacts with notables.

Invitations are issued to the ambassador and some of his staff in return for the invitations he offers. This sort of 298

reciprocity, once established, is a means of becoming known

as moving in the "right" circles. The Rand Easter Show

opening of the Malawi pavillion provided the opportunity for

a number of Soweto dignitaries to dress formally and travel

to town to enjoy the occasion. Naturally those seeking to move in the "right" circles are especially interested in attending such exclusive events, and making contact with such foreign dignitaries. At a Soweto house party the average person who may live next door can observe only the arrivals and departures, e.g. the cars and the attire of arriving and departing guests. If the party is held outside, as with a garden party or a cookout, and the plot of land where the festivities are being held is not completely enclosed, a crowd will sometimes gather around the perimeter or outside the fence to catch a glimpse of the proceedings. In some cases of weddings, funerals, graduation parties or celebra- tions of special birthdays of children, large tents are set up in the yard to provide the hospitality for those who can- not get inside, but who have come to celebrate. In these latter cases the social elite events become more accessible, and hence more visible to the average person who may enter or may observe as he passes.

On the other hand, the social elite observe what they can of the events sponsored by the non-elite. In some cases this is not difficult, since they are often invited to weddings, or one of their children may be asked to partici- pate. Mrs. Mafoko's young pre-school child was asked to a

299

serve in the wedding party of a young non-elite couple. One day, not long before the event was to occur, Mrs. Mafoko went to fetch her child from the home of Mrs. Nhlane, a staff nurse on leave. Their children are good friends and

in many cases, they spend an afternoon playing together.

The conversation in Mrs. Nhlane's tiled kitchen guickly

turned to the impending wedding, and Mrs. Mafoko remarked

on the heavy financial burden that fell on the young couple

and their families, neither family being financially well- off. The 1 0 bo 1 a (bridewealth) paid by the prospective groom was high, and the prospective bride was planning to wear

three separate outfits, and expected that her attendants

would do the same (at their own expense however). Since

the hiring of a car was still in doubt, Mrs. Nhlane said,

"I suppose they will be parading through the streets so that

we can all see that she has three different outfits just

like everybody else does." Mrs. Mafoko remarked, "The

^ Qbol will never cover her expenses, nor many of those

involving her family's celebration. How will these newly- weds ever afford to furnish their house, or even begin--they will be completely broke! Besides neither one has a very good job." The wedding took place a few weeks later, and the Mafokos were at home early, not having remained at the celebration long beyond what they felt was a decent interval.

Another occasion, a sweet sixteen party held for the daughter of a non-elite couple, was eagerly watched, as dis- creetly as possible, by some of their nearby neighbors, who were included in the respondent sample. One neighbor had a child of the same age group who had been invited, and she had purchased for her daughter a lovely (and expensive) floor-length dress at a fashionable boutique. Since the party took place in a tent hired for the occasion and put up in the yard, it was not difficult for the party to be assessed as it progressed. However, it seemed that through- out the evening the party was quiet, with the young guests continually seated on chairs, and the host and hostess not providing a lively affair. Neighbors passed in and out of the nearest house to give their periodic reports on the attire, the activities, and the general acceptability of the party.

The conclusion was that the host and hostess "did not know how these things were to be done because there was no action."

This meant that in their assessment the party was dull, since there was no music provided for the young guests and

"they prayed alot." This was felt by the social elite to be out of place at such an event.

Private parties of the social elite, whether they were spontaneous gatherings of about ten close friends, or whether they were planned in advance and involved a large number of guests, were characterized by guests enjoying themselves with music, food, drinks, dancing, and conversa- tions. Everyone seemed to participate in his or her own way,

and the marked status anxiety described by Brandel -Syr i er was absent in nearly all cases. She referred to "European

style parties" which she contrasted to the stokfel . In her 301

differentiation of the two party types, she characterized the former as "parties where food and drink were not paid for by the guests, and in which the hostess did not receive

'presents' or services in return." The parties of the

Soweto social elite were of this latter type. Brandel -Syr i er describes one party of this same type and shows how "very unfamiliar" such parties were to her elite respondents:

People would sit on their chairs along the walls-- just sit--each trying to behave with decorum and dignity, each uncertain with regard to the correct behavior expected by the others as befitting his or her new status and social position. ...The uncertainty of perhaps committing oneself by the 'wrong' behavior, that is by either 'shining too much' or 'betraying one's ignorance', was agonizing. There was nothing to break the inhibi- tions and in the fear of behaving either 'too low or too high' nobody enjoyed themselves (Brandel-

Syr i er 1971:60).

Much more typical in my own research was the ease with which the social elite, especially within those cliques friendly to each other, entertained and felt free to enjoy the festivities. The noise level of the music, and the general atmosphere of enjoyment rose as the evening festivities pro- gressed. The friendly informality was such that frequently such parties never broke up until the following morning when guests began to depart. This was one hallmark of a success- ful party and a source of pride and satisfaction to hosts and hostesses. There was always something happening as the party moved along. As can be seen from Plate 12, the scene is one of general activity, and this party was not atypical.

One of the most outstanding examples of this same informality was a Saturday evening party of over 100 guests 302

held in honor of a visiting Black South African who now lives abroad. It was held at Dr. and Mrs. Dube's large home. Of course, not all parties were so large, or given by such out- standing social elite, but the atmosphere was still that of people who had come for a good time. The house was packed with guests laughing, talking, and dancing, to the accom- paniment of constant stereo selections. In attendance were leading "show-biz" personalities, professionals, businessmen, artists, academics, musicians, poets, and advertising per- sonnel. It was a party at which I saw many of the social elite I knew, except for a few people known not to be on good terms with the host or hostess and others, who were either out of town, or who were giving their own previously- scheduled party at their homes. At the Dube's party those few people who did not know each other were being introduced and getting acquainted. The drinks were to be had at the busy bar, and food was outside in the attached double garage, where guests could cook their steaks or chops, eat them with fingers or forks (nobody was concerned about such unimportant details), and, at their leisure, rejoin the main group, which eventually spread to various parts of the house as late arrivals swelled the number of guests. Some like

Miss Velelo, Dr. and Mrs. Mafoko, Dr. and Mrs. Kumalo, and

Miss Mokoena had come from other parties, and others from various favorite shebeens.

Outside the house, cars were parked everywhere, and as is not uncommon at such occasions, it is sometimes a long JUJ

process to leave, since someone eise's car could easily

block that of an earlier arrival wanting to depart. Such

lively parties, where food and liquor are provided in

abundance, are those which add immeasurably to the reputa-

tion of the host and hostess on the social scene. Such

parties also express clearly the various facets of the

distinctive life-style so sharply contrastive to the average

residents' means, contacts, movements, tastes, and pre-

ferences .

Holiday travel is another activity where the social

elite meet and mingle, and is another expression of their

common interests as well as the resources to maintain these

interests. Over two long weekends and over Christmas,

travel outside South Africa is popular. Over one weekend we

travelled to Swaziland with some Soweto friends, and while

there and "moving around," met by chance a number of other

residents who were also "making the scene." The Holiday

Inn gambling casino, a music festival, a smaller local hotel

and around the streets of a Swaziland town, one often met

the same familiar faces. Parties were going on nearly con-

stantly, and people moved from one to another, and then on

to several of the popular night clubs. The same was true of

another long weekend when we jaunted to Botswana. At a hotel

in the capital city where we went with friends for drinks, we saw those who were "moving around." It was as if the

township social set had moved with much of its personnel in-

tact to a different country --a country where apartheid is not 304

the order of the day. At Christmas people may visit friends

(often of similar or the same occupation) in distant cities within South Africa. Black Durban ites may come to

Johannesburg, Black Sowetons may travel by air or car to

Durban or Cape Town. Holiday travel to Malawi is also popu- lar, but does not necessarily take place during the periods mentioned; rather it may be planned for the July holidays when children are on school holidays or scheduled as a group as a group tour by some organization for its members.

Travel is not only entertainment, but also another means by which the social elite express their common broad interests and validate their accumulation of prestige-capital, while simultaneously augmenting it. At the same time, of course, such experiences set them apart from the world of the average township dweller.

Scuttling as an expression of one's means and display of one's standing through such activities as those dealt with throughout the present chapter is competitive within elite circles. But at the same time, it marks the social bounda-

ries between elite and non-el i te , and can serve to "up the ante" and thereby, intentionally or not, serve to maintain a certain exclusivity of the social elite.

One of the essential ingredients for successful scuttling ("making it") is that of possessing a sufficient accumulation of prestige-capital based on the significant criteria to be able to compete without seeming to do so with undue effort. The display must be evaluated as consistent 305

with one's means and total life-style. The case of the elaborate wedding is illustrative. It was considered excessive by some of the same people who are participants in the activities just described. These possessions, pre- ferences, and activities are part and parcel of an inclusive package, and this is what is meant by consistency. We have seen earlier in this chapter how, when the element of con- sistency is missing, scuttling is generally evaluated as ridiculous (inconsistent with other criteria), and hence is unsuccessful. On the other hand, if one does not adequately express one's standing, as in the case of the two teachers, a negative evaluation also results. When persons who are viewed by the social elite as lacking in some important criterion or other, do display abilities congruent with the values of the elite (as was the case with the house of the nearby neighbors of the two teachers), admiration is ex- pressed. The elaborate wedding sponsored by the business- man however, was "too much" in two respects. First, it was of a scale that rivalled that attainable and expressable by the social elite, and second, it was not in keeping with the life-style of the businessman as the elite evaluated him. The businessman had "set the standard very high," which is a prerogative pre-empted by those who move con- sistently in the "right" circles. CHAPTER ELEVEN

DYNAMICS OF SCUTTLING

The Model

In the preceding chapters we have explored the social

mosaic of urban Black South Africans and their township-

based culture of inequality. Special emphasis was placed on

presenting those criteria of social evaluation and inter- action which are recognized and used by residents themselves,

instead of those imposed by a researcher. Inequalities con-

sistently recognized, conceptualized, and acted upon members of the two townships and their ideas about these inequalities were of paramount importance in this study. It is these ideas which have been referred to as the culture of inequal- i ty.

The plans by which this culture of inequality is put into action, and the strategies by which it can be mani- pulated to the prestige-gain of an individual were referred to in this study as scuttling. The use of scuttling as a dynamic model comprehends and represents the interplay of both the objective and the subjective aspects of evaluations.

Scuttling, then, reflects what people think to be signifi- cant in differentiating themselves from others in a society such as that of the townships. It also represents what

306 .

307

people do to set themselves apart from others in that

society. Scuttling, has been used by this researcher and

by some members of Soweto society, to denote a means of

self-presentation which consists of a number of discrete acts

As we have seen, efforts at scuttling, while frequent,

are not always successful. That is, they do not always pro-

duce a favorable evaluation and the resultant desired

prestige-gain. Scuttling is revealed throughout Part II in a variety of ways. Using this model we presented the nature of friendship, social situations, and on-going events, various types of expertise, and aspects of life-style that demonstrated some of the ways in which people attempt to manipulate their presentation of self in order to accrue prestige-capital. The dynamic aspect of scuttling lies in the flexibility of evaluations and assessments. It will be clear from a number of the earlier cases that when non-elite residents attempt to scuttle, or at least to "keep up with the Dlaminis," they are subject to ridicule by the social elite. The same is true for upstart residents who may be assessed as possessing the economic means, but not the social know-how, to make a success of an elaborate event. A member of the social elite, however, as was the case with a medical doctor's sponsorship of a daughter's wedding, can act somewhat similarly, but be evaluated in a different way.

Such evaluations, critical in the success or failure of scuttling, are made by those at the top. These evaluations 308

are based on criteria, some of which are highly subjective

and flexible, such as "respectability" and "responsibility."

Hence they can be used primarily as the elite choose to maintain social boundaries.

However, being subject to ridicule does not prevent

people from scuttling. Such scuttling, as we have seen,

includes verbal statements designed to "bring down" another

person or persons. The reverse of this verbal usage is

found in remarks people make to "bring themselves up", e.g. to create the impression that they spend more time associating with the "right people" than they actually may.

Scuttling can occur in the context of charity work where prestige-gain may not be the only motivation for active par- ticipation or for patronage, but it is an important facet of such activities. Those with special expertise in the various musical or vocal arts attempt to enhance their popu- larity by being included in such events as the Soundpower

Jazz Festival. They gain further visibility in this way.

Those social elite who express their interest in various productions of the Black artists, many of whom reflect a

Black consciousness to which we will return later, are at the same time setting themselves apart from the general popu- lace of the townships. The activities and life-styles of the social elite also set them apart. They are the arbiters of taste, the pace-setters for their communities, and are often imitated. In an achievement-oriented materialistic social mosaic, it is not surprising that scuttling is widespread. 309

Public display of possessions, elaborate hospitality,

fashion, expertise, and general accomplishments are the path-

ways usually followed by people attempting to accrue

prestige. Competitiveness has been noted by several authors who discuss backbiting and gossip, position-seeking within

organizations, and how the elite try to set themselves apart

from others ( Brandel -Syri er 1971:28-29, 299; Jacobson

1 973:21 , 26 ; Nyquist n . d . : 624- 664 ) . However the model of

scuttling subsumes all such social action and makes it under- standable as part of a comprehensive whole.

Applicability of the Class System

The criteria employed by Black South Africans in their assessments are, in many cases, those usually associated by social scientits with social class. However, the mere use of these criteria is hardly sufficient evidence on which to assume the existence of a "class system" in the Black town- ships similar to such classes described for American and

European cities. There is no indication that classes, as

i pan -soc etal layers , are conceptualized by residents. While each township has its relatively few "top people," the

American prototype of a class system or a number of strata does not represent social reality in the Black townships studied.

Social differentiation is occurring, and as Pauw

(1963:179) noted there are persons set apart as a "white- collar" type, who on the whole are also the "best educated 310

and most wealthy section of the community." This section of

the community that he chooses to call the upper "stratum,"

may become further differentiated into different "strata,"

but he stresses that "it cannot be merely assumed that the

future upper and middle classes will be distinguished along

lines like those of Western society." Although Pauw uses

the term "stratum" to refer to those holding positions of

pre-eminence, he is somewhat cautious about making further

assumptions about inequalities.^ In contrast to Pauw, a

number of other authors, who have been mentioned earlier, make and impose initial assumptions about the character and

f orm of devel op i ng inequalities in various parts of Africa.

In Soweto, "top people" or the "big guys" are viewed

not as a layer, a class, or a stratum, but as a series of

individuals. These individuals associate with each other not as a whole category, but within their separate friendship

networks or cliques that characterize township elite social

life. In other words a number of friendship networks exist, and some persons may be linked to, and participate in, more

than one network on different occasions. However, these networks are not ranked in any overall way, nor are they conceptualized together as a stratum or pan-societal layer.

Furthermore, there appears to be no firm generational crystallization of pre-eminence which would make it more

^It will be noted, however, that he speaks of "future upper and middle classes," appearing to take for granted the eventual presence of a three-class system. 1.

311

realistic to speak of class. In addition people, rich and

poor, educated and uneducated, generally live in the same

neighborhoods. While this may be by government edict, the

fact of such residence also makes for a misrepresentation of

social reality if we are to use the term "class."

Any population can be divided arbitrarily into any

number of layers by using a pre-determi ned mold and casting

the information gathered into layers in that mold. Using

the natural history method of Anthropology (Arensberg and

Kimball 1965:4-5,218) precludes imposing such pre-determi ned molds, and fitting data to them. Rather the natural history method allows the researcher to garner relevant divisions and criteria as the information is collected, and to con-

struct a model that flows from such information. We have followed this method in constructing the model of scuttling.

If we are to accurately represent social reality, we must not impose an American prototype onto another cultural context

In summary the "big guys" and "top people" at Soweto

form a social elite composed of various networks. The elite may or may not see themselves as having common interests

with a 1 those others who are viewed as social elite. These

individuals, like some of the people we have met here, are

viewed qua individuals, and not as part of a layer. 312

The Elite

In our examination of significant criteria of social

evaluation and interaction, we noted that friendships tend

to be based on a principle of perceived social equality.

In other words, there are indications that, both cognitively

and interact ionally, social boundaries exist between elite

and non-elite residents. These boundaries are based pri- marily on achievement-oriented criteria. Such social

boundaries are reinforced by the repeated interaction of

those friends viewed as social elite and who view themselves

more or less as social equals. As individuals the social

elite display, and hence validate, their right to remain

"top people" through various aspects of their life-style.

This life-style, and its attendant reciprocities and obligations, limits participation of the ordinary town-

ship resident in it. Set against the ideal of equality, is

the inescapable fact of inequality. This inequality is

further reinforced by the common values or interests of the

social elite friends as they contrast themselves with the

"masses" or the "ordinary laborers." In turn their shared values are reinforced by on-going social interaction with

others whom they view as social equals, and who share in common with them many past experiences.

At the same time we have noted the presence of the

ideal of equality (based on an African tradition of respect,

i communal sm , hospi tal i ty , conviviality and generosity) with

the perceived inequalities involved in the creation and 313

maintenance of social boundaries. The social elite and

their leisure-time activities and links are important in

setting trends. They set the standards, make the assess- ments and can be inclusive or exclusive as it suits them.

The importance of having and moving with the "right" circle of friends further reinforces the bonds which hold together friendships within a competitive society. While one may compete with one's friends, such competition is kept in bounds partly through the mechanism of rumor and gossip.

These latter also serve to define social boundaries

(Gluckman 1963; Paine 1967). It is true that in the town- ships one tends to be known and evaluated by the company one keeps. Finally we stressed that the criteria used by resi- dents in evaluation and interaction are juxtaposed to and interlocked with other criteria. The general criteria considered were: (1) common interests; (2) income;

(3) occupation; (4) education; and (5) respectability and life-style.

The role of ethnicity in the culture of inequality was examined, and it appears that among the elite, ethnic group membership is not an important factor in scuttling. An analysis of friendship transactions and the choice of marital partners among the social elite suggests that ethnicity is a less important organizing principle for their social trans- actions than it may be for non-elite residents. Other survey data show that there is a widespread pride in being Black and that elite Africans in South Africa's townships feel that 314

they are part of one Black nation. This is despite a government policy aimed at emphasizing the differences be- tween the i ntra -Af r i can ethnic groups (Ndebele 1973:41).

The personal social networks of the social elite tend to express this ideal of Black unity.

Measures of the density of elite social networks, indi- cate that social boundaries, based on achievement criteria, are present. Densities were found to be consistently higher than those normally expected in an urban area (Pendleton

1974:121). The chances that social elite persons would know each other are greatly enhanced by their relative small numbers. In addition, the important aspect of their consis- tent interaction with each other, primarily within their own separate cliques, is another factor making for these high densities, and for the maintenance of the social boundaries.

The two spheres of friendship and marriage transactions are less subject to the important external determinants to which the African population is subject in South Africa.

When politics (in its extremely limited legal form), and the neighborhood of residence are considered, we find reflected the effects of the external determinants mentioned above.

Whenever these external determinants enter the picture,

African social action is channelled along intra-African ethnic lines. The social elite do not accept ethnic group- ing, as applied by the South African government, as a rele- vant basis for social interaction, or for dealing with their problems as Blacks in a White-ruled larger society. However, 315

it may well be the very structure of this larger society which sharpens the awareness of such achievement criteria as we have discussed throughout Part II.

Black Consciousness and Scuttling

Equality and inequality are two faces of the same social dynamic. The inequalities were represented and com- prehended within the model of scuttling. The ideal of equality, on the other hand, was expressed through residents' comments, and through an exploration of the Black solidarity movement. This movement, representing equality. Black consciousness and Black pride is juxtaposed to the achievement- orientation represented by the model of scuttling. For some residents an intellectual dilemma of no mean proportions exists between these two. The various events taking place within the social mosaic (such as National Traditional Day and the spectacular wedding already described), again demon- strate the juxtaposition of the ideal of equality in Black unity and Black consciousness with an achievement orientation represented by scuttling.

Scuttling successfully ("making it") is reflected in the various aspects of the shared life-styles of the social elite and in their activities. Their life-style, including those highly visible items such as housing, cars, fashion and participation in certain activities has been described to

show how economic differences are socially expressed.

Evaluations based on the criteria used throughout Part II 316

continue to serve as the basis for the maintenance of elite

exclusivity. To be fully realized, social standing must be

displayed in a public manner, and such display is part and

parcel of scuttling.

Hence it is no accident that the basic theme of Black

consciousness and solidarity is juxtaoosed with the presenta-

tion of a materialistic achievement orientation. This

orientation involves the acquisition of prestige through

various forms of manipulations and competitive endeavor.

These competitive aspects have been subsumed in the model of

scuttling. There exists in the urban African community in

South Africa a partial contradiction between the two themes.

This dilemma is one of the most outstanding characteristics of the social mosaic of Black South Africans today. . . .

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Susan Middleton Keirn was born on March 30, 1943 at

Piqua, Ohio. In June, 1961, she graduated from Graham High

School as salutatorian of her class. First enrolled at the

University of Florida in September, 1965, she was sub- sequently awarded a Ford Foundation Fellowship. Susan received the degree of Bachelor of Arts in Anthropology in December, 1967, at which time she was selected for membership in the Society of Phi Beta Kappa.

In January, 1968, she enrolled in the Graduate School of the University of Florida working toward the degree of

Master of Arts in Anthropology with African Studies as a major field of interest. From March until September, 1969, she carried out field research among urban Africans in the

Republic of South Africa, supported in part by a travel grant from the Division of Sponsored Research and by a

Graduate School Fellowship from the University of Florida.

She was awarded the degree of Master of Arts in Anthropology and the certificate in African Studies in August, 1970.

Susan began work leading to the degree of Doctor of

Philosophy in Anthropology at the University of Florida in the fall of 1970. While enrolled in courses, she was employed as a Graduate Teaching Assistant in Anthropology.

In the fall of 1970 she presented a paper on voluntary

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associations among urban African women which was awarded the student essay prize for that year by the Southern

Anthropological Society. This paper in revised form has subsequently been published. In 1972 she was requested to present a paper in a session on Modern Man in Africa at the meetings of this latter society. A National Institute of Mental Health combination pre-doctoral fellowship and research grant awarded in late 1972, enabled her to return to South Africa, where she conducted 20 months field research on which her dissertation is based.

Upon returning from South Africa in the fall of 1974, she was employed as a Graduate Teaching Assistant in

Anthropology for one term. The following two terms, while completing her dissertation, she received a Graduate

Assi stantshi p from the Center for African Studies, Univer- sity of Florida. Susan attended the 1974 annual national meetings of the American Anthropological Association, held in Mexico City, where she had been invited to present a paper in a session focusing on women in ritual and symbolic systems. At the spring 1975 meetings of the Southern

Anthropological Society, she participated in a session on ethnicity where she presented a paper on one aspect of that topic. She is a member of the Southern Anthropological

Society and the American Anthropological Association.

Beginning in the fall of 1975, she will be Associate

Professor of Sociology at Jacksonville State University,

Jacksonville, Alabama. I certify that I have read this study and that in my opinion it conforms to acceptable standards of scholarly presentation and is fully adequate, in scope and quality, as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

f. Brian M.'du Toit, Chairman Professor of Anthropology

I certify that I have read this study and that in my opinion it conforms to acceptable standards of scholarly presentation and is fully adequate, in scope and quality, as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

Graduate Research Professor of Anthropology

I certify that I have read this study and that in my opinion it conforms to acceptable standards of scholarly presentation and is fully adequate, in scope and quality, as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

Joseph S. Vandiver Professor of Sociology I certify that I have read this study and that in my opinion it conforms to acceptable standards of scholarly presentation and is fully adequate, in scope and quality, as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

Associate Professor of Anthropology

I certify that I have read this study and that in my opinion it conforms to acceptable standards of scholarly presentation and is fully adequate, in scope and quality, as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

Assoc i a te Curator

This dissertation was submitted to the Graduate Faculty of the Department of Anthropology in the College of Arts and Sciences and to the Graduate Council, and was accepted as partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

August , 1975

Dean, Graduate School